Tabula Rasa
by Sandylee007
Summary: Matthew was 28 when he was born, everything about his past wiped from his memory. Since then he's recovered and obtained a loving family with Maeve. But what happens when his past comes knocking? A past that knows him as Dr. Spencer Reid and includes a family that's desperately waiting for him to come back home.      SLIGHT AU SLASH       Reid x Maeve  / Reid x Morgan NO MPREG
1. A Clean Slate

A/N: Does anyone here still remember me? (chuckles a bit awkwardly) GOSH, I've been away for such a long time! But guess what, folks? This beginning of a fic is my official announcement of return!

This story-idea just had to be unleashed. And I solemnly, swear, tomorrow 'The Secret of White Dahlia' will FINALLY be updated! Yay? Good news? BUT, back to this story…

LENGTH: ten chapters (although if plotbunnies go crazy, I may add or take away a chapter or two)

WARNINGS: SLASH, Morgan x Reid, Reid x Maeve, adult themes, language, violence…ya know, the usual fun (STOP STOMPING ON EACH OTHER ON THE WAY OUT!)

DISCLAIMER: PLEEEEEEEEEASE! Reid wouldn't be missing from even a single episode if I did own something. Just borrowing the characters to play around with them for a bit.

Awkay, because it's LATE and I'm a bit nervous… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

 ** _Tabula Rasa_**

* * *

A Clean Slate

* * *

Matthew Dahl was born at the age of 28 at the ICU of a huge hospital in New York. He opened his eyes with tremendous effort to realize that he had no idea of who he was or where he was. He was told that he'd been mugged savagely, to a degree where he had definite brain damage. The doctors in charge of his care weren't very optimistic that he'd ever regain his memories. Or walk. Or talk.

In two cases out of three, he proved them wrong.

In three weeks he was talking, stuttering horribly but still. In two months he was taking his first wobbly steps, watched over carefully by two nurses who didn't seem sure if they wanted to smack him or hug him. But the memories never came back. Which was strange, because he seemed to have an eidetic memory. How could someone with a memory like that lose 28 years?

He couldn't be a John Doe forever. Since there was no ID with him when he was found and no one came looking for him he had to come up with a new name. For some reason Matthew Dahl sounded right. And didn't.

He adjusted to his newly found life the best as he could. But he couldn't stop himself from waiting for someone to appear. He kept scratching his left ring finger until the skin broke.

* * *

When one is born as an adult, there's a lot of emotional turmoil involved. It was an inevitability that Matthew found himself needing therapy to adjust. To make sense of his life, to find a direction.

He was eight months old, fresh out of the hospital and the rehabilitation which followed, when he approached one of the plush chairs of Dr. Harley's waiting room. Only this time he wasn't there alone, like he usually was. A woman of his age sat there reading a book.

She looked up upon hearing steps and blinked twice. "Hey you… three o'clock, too?"

He shook his head, feeling embarrassed. Was he this awkward with people, even… before? "No, I just…" He cleared his throat, hating the way he stuttered. Hating the tricks blows to the head had done to his brain. "I like being early. And… On some days it's nice to sit here for a while and…"

"… read before she calls you in." The woman chuckled nervously and looked away, moving a strand of hair behind her ear. Did she blush? "I've been here since one thirty."

They smiled at each other. Matthew felt dizzy, and had a feeling that this time it had nothing to do with brain damage. It was strange, to look at someone who seemed to have known you longer than you'd known yourself.

All of a sudden the book in his satchel was much heavier than before. Perhaps because it was the same one she was reading. 'The Narrative of John Smith'.

On that day he stopped scratching his left ring finger, and wondered if she was what he'd been waiting for.

* * *

Two more months flew by with Matthew struggling to get a grip of his new life. It was a beautiful, sunny Thursday morning when he followed a man in a lab-coat through a maze of hallways. The cane he'd have to use for a little while longer sounded uncomfortably loud as he looked around, imprinting the route to his mind.

"Dr. Harley gave great recommendations", his tour guide stated, and gave him a genuine smile. No pity, no uncertainty. It was a refreshing change. "According to her you're the smartest person she's ever met. And if the talk we just had is anything to go by, you're the perfect match for this team." The man was polite enough to not mention that he was only a low-paid trainee, someone who'd been picked out of several applicants because of his genuine motivation.

Matthew must've zoned out. Again, thanks to his malfunctioning brain. Because the next time he was able to focus his companion was opening a door to one of the research rooms. "Ah, it looks like you'll meet one member of this family." The man gave someone in the room a smile as they entered. "Morning. I should've known that you're already busy."

Matthew's eyes found those of the room's occupant. And in a flash that felt like a electric jolt he recognized the woman from the therapist's office. Clearly she recognized him as well. "Hi." She didn't offer a hand. How did she know that he wasn't comfortable with handshakes? "I'm Dr. Maeve Donovan."

* * *

They had coffee together after work. Maeve told him that she went to therapy because she recently found out that her mom was seriously ill and she needed a little help to cope with it. Matthew told her about his own harsh, pathetically short life.

They sat there until the café closed and since then they had coffee together every day.

Two months later Maeve broke it off with her fiancé. Another two weeks later Matthew finally gathered his courage and asked if she'd like to see a Russian movie with him. There were only four other people in the theater, but they didn't notice the rest of the world. In the dark they exchanged their first kiss.

* * *

The following six months were rough. Maeve's mom got worse, until she finally began to get better. Matthew supported her through all that, unable to imagine doing anything less.

And then it was Maeve's birthday. She wasn't as surprised as she could've been when Matthew gave her a beautiful, star shaped puzzle. "Matt…"

"Break it."

She looked at it in disbelief. With the way his hands still shook sometimes it must've taken him ages to put it together. Why…? "Break it?"

Matthew grinned. He'd never loved her as much as he did at that moment. "Yup."

Curiosity won. Still hesitant, Maeve let the star fall. It hit the floor and exploded to hundreds of pieces that shone like diamonds. And all of a sudden her eyes spotted the most beautiful ring she'd ever seen on the floor.

* * *

They got married in a stunningly beautiful, tiny chapel with only four people and a priest for company. It was the perfect winter day, with snow falling softly outside and light streaming in through the windows, shining on the bride and groom's blissed faces. As they swore to spend the rest of their days together they meant it from the bottom of their hearts.

And yet… As a ring was slid to the finger that still had marks of all the scratching he once did… A very, very tiny part of Matthew couldn't help but feel like he was betraying someone.

Which didn't shatter the knowledge that he couldn't imagine being happier than he was right then. Until he could. Because later that afternoon Maeve refused to have champagne with a twinkle of uncontrollable joy in her eyes.

* * *

Maeve was on a maternity leave when the thesis of Diane Turner arrived. The pile of papers became buried and forgotten. Diane was ignored. And the lack of recognition made her rage bubble.

She never got the chance to reach her boiling point. Because on a fateful night a car collided with hers, ending her life prematurely. She died just as the paramedics arrived with flashing lights. And smiled, as she could've sworn that her parents were there with her.

The car that collided with hers was driven by a drunken Bobby Putnam, who only hours ago saw his very pregnant ex-fiancée sitting at a restaurant table with her husband.

* * *

Storm raged on the day the baby was born. It was no surprise that Matthew and Maeve never made it to the hospital. Their baby-girl was born on the backseat of their car, screaming with outrage as she was pushed violently into the world.

Later at a hospital the new parents smiled at their sleeping daughter, all the stress and panic forgotten. "Take a look at that face. I wonder what she's dreaming of", Maeve murmured, leaning against her husband. A comfortable silence lingered while they admired the miracle they created. "What do you think we should call her?"

The name came out of nowhere, it seemed. But it was the only one he could think of. "How about Morgana?"

* * *

Four years and two months passed by at a breathtaking pace.

Matthew recovered. While his daughter took her first steps he learned that he didn't need his cane anymore. As Morgana continued to learn new words – the first one of them being, to her dad's immense pride, 'coffee' – he fought to learn to control his speech. The stuttering would never fade away completely. And he'd probably never regain the vocabulary he had before… being reborn. ('Don't worry', Maeve comforted him gently whenever the frustration threatened to take over. 'You still know more words than five average people combined.') He was incredibly intelligent and his mind moved at a dizzying speed. But still learning new things was a challenge. And the headaches… On some days they were murder. Thankfully he had Maeve to help him through the worst.

Matthew wondered, several times over, how in the world someone as damage as he managed to have such a perfect family. And although he hated himself for it sometimes he wondered if he had a family, before… If there were people who still wondered what happened to him. Probably not. Shouldn't someone have come looking by now, if he had anyone?

He already had everything he could've possibly wished for, so there was no point in longing for more, he decided.

One late evening, naked and comfortably drowsy from their previous activities, Maeve was just about to fall asleep in Matthew's arms. She frowned and nuzzled her head against his chest when he pulled her closer. "What is it, Mattie?" she murmured.

"Don't… Don't let me forget about this life, too." He kissed her hair. "Don't let me forget again." _Don't let me lose you, too._

* * *

Matthew could've lived like that forever, even if he had a distinct feeling that something more than his memory and some connections in his brain was missing. It was the closest to heaven anyone could get while still on Earth, he was sure. He should've known that at some point the years of life he'd forgotten would come back to haunt him.

He felt chills when men with his physical description began to die. Not a lot of details had been released to public but he knew enough to be able to tell that the deaths were incredibly painful and sadistic. He didn't realize fully just how close the danger was until he bought a mug of coffee that tasted strange and woke up in a basement he couldn't recognize.

Later, he remembered how the man who tried to kill him looked like down to the last detail. Exactly how brown those eyes were, the amount of gray locks amongst mahogany brown, the body shape, the star shaped scar on left cheek, the scent of cologne, the clothes… And especially the look on the killer's face when the man pulled out a knife.

At that moment Matthew saw, loud and clear, just how much he had to lose. Morgana. Maeve. His first instinct was the confuse the man by talking but he knew that with how much he still stuttered there was no way he'd manage it. So he relied on his almost as badly broken body instead.

Before either of them saw it coming he kicked fiercely, sending the knife flying, then kicked again. As hard as he possibly could. The killer was tossed right at a nearby wall and hit his head harshly, then slid down and remained unmoving.

Shock and adrenaline coursed through Matthew as he stared at the motionless man, wondering just what he'd done. And how. How did he manage it?

Matthew decided quickly that there was no point in wasting time on wondering. Instead he tugged and pulled at the restraints around his wrist. Ignoring the fact that eventually he was bleeding. That his skin was broken and the pain blossomed, going all the way through him and tingling. All he cared about was that he had to leave, while he still could.

He stumbled to the floor so suddenly that it startled him. He bruised his knees, hit one of them so hard that he was lucky it didn't break. Despite the discomfort he was up in a flash.

And that was when the running steps, like thunder, began. They approached before he had the time to process what was happening. "FBI! Hands in the air, now!"

Matthew obeyed instantly, his eyes wide while adrenaline surged anew. His heart thundered, and he wondered just how fast it could go before it'd kill him. He stood absolutely still, trying to keep the trembling at bay.

"I, ah… I'm…" Matthew cleared his throat, then tried again. "I'm not… I'm not the one you're looking for…!"

Just then the FBI-agents reached the basement floor. Slowly, slowly, the dark-skinned man leading the crew lowered his weapon. They stared at each other, and Matthew felt like he'd been sucked into some entirely different reality with those wide, brown eyes fixed on him. Disbelief, joy and so much more was clearly visibly. No one but Maeve had ever looked at him with such sheer adoration. The agent's lips opened twice before they uttered a name that seemed make his world spin around. "Spence?"

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: So, here we are. What happened to Reid, to make him forget? Just what was the past he's forgotten like? And which life will he choose – or will he even have a choice?

AND, the most important question… Would you like to read more? I'D LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU, since starting a new story is always nerve-wrecking.

In any case, thank you SO MUCH for reading! Who knows. Maybe I'll see you again someday?

Take care!


	2. Two Homes

A/N: PHEW! It's horribly late but I wanted to update before heading to bed. So here we are. Yay…?

Before getting to the point, though… THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for the OVERWHELMING reception to this fic and my return! You can't even imagine how much your kind words mean to me. So thank you! (HUGS)

Awkay, before I get all mushy… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

Angst ahoy!

 **EDITED VERSION**

* * *

Two Homes

* * *

/ _The room had been unbearably quiet for almost a full minute until a female voice finally spoke. "This is our fifth meeting, Derek. I can tell that something's bothering you."_

 _Derek Morgan gave her a far from impressed look. "My husband died nine months ago. That's what's bothering me." It was probably supposed to be biting but her ears caught the deeply wounded, agonized undertone._

 _"I wouldn't need to be a psychiatrist to realize that." She tilted her head. "You're still having nightmares."_

 _Derek looked away sharply, a deep frown on his face. His arms folded tightly in a mostly futile attempt to shield himself. "Not… exactly. Just… dreams, mostly. Of what we did, or could've done. Ordinary things. Sometimes I dream of waking up and starting a day with him, and then I… well, wake up, and remember." The ache was palpable, even if those eyes still refused to meet hers. "Last night…" And there was something else. Guilt. "I dreamt of the last time I ever saw him."_

 _She nodded slowly, processing. Coming to conclusions. "Something you regret?"_

 _The silence spoke far louder than any words could've._

 _She shifted slightly and considered for a moment. Then decided on a calculated risk. "If you could relive that moment… What would you say to him?"_ /

* * *

For over almost seven years Derek Morgan was a widow. Clichéd, perhaps, but on the day his husband and best friend died he lost a part of himself, too. A piece of his heart clicked shut. He'd imagined that it'd never come to life again.

Until now.

Because all of a sudden Spencer was right there. In front of him, staring at him with those painfully familiar, wide eyes. And the years ago locked piece of Derek's heart restarted with such force that he feared it might kill him.

Derek's first instinct was to run to his husband. To hug the man he'd imagined lost, kiss him, hold him and never let go. Because that was what he'd been dreaming of, every single night for almost seven years. But something in Spencer's eyes froze him to the spot even before the words.

"Why… would you c… call me Spence?"

* * *

Aaron Hotchner, never having been one to stand back, was the next one to enter the scene. The first thing he saw was Derek, gun holstered and such an utterly crushed expression on his face that it would've broken anyone's heart. It was the look of someone who was having their heart torn out of their chest.

And then Aaron's eyes landed on the man who was supposed to be dead. Whose funeral they attended to. A man who had a gravestone and was now staring at Derek with unmasked fear and confusion. Clearly not recognizing. "Why… would you c… call me Spence?"

Aaron knew that there was absolutely no way Derek would be able to handle the situation. So he did what he'd trained himself at for years. He bottled up his emotions, kept his facial expression in check and stepped forward. "We'll tell you everything you want to know later, when you're ready. But first you need to stop by at a hospital, just to be sure that you're alright. And then we'll need to ask you a few questions to close the case."

Spencer nodded slowly, a dazed look on his face. While the man passed by Derek for exactly two seconds his hand twitched towards the older agent's. Like a part of him still knew and remembered. And Derek's hand twitched back with at least the same eagerness, until the mocha skinned agent balled the fist so tightly that it had to hurt.

A joyous reunion and a bitter loss rolled into one.

Not another word was offered because none of them knew what to say. Beside him Spencer limped slightly and trembled miserably. Shock, definitely. Aaron pretended to not know that behind them Derek broke down to soundless tears.

* * *

It took an hour and a half before Derek finally found the strength to enter the hospital where Spencer had been taken. Aaron, Alex and David were already there waiting, varying levels of confusion and shock on their faces. None of them seemed to quite know what to say when he walked in. David resulted to a grim-faced nod, Alex gave him a brief but tender hug.

"Are you sure that you're ready to face him?" Aaron demanded, and only someone who knew the man as well as he did saw how shaken the team leader was.

Derek chuckled bitterly. "No", he admitted brutally honestly. "But I… I need to be here."

His three friends nodded. It didn't take profiling skills to understand certain things. As Derek slumped to a chair and buried his face into his hands they settled to a quiet wait.

* * *

/ _"Something you regret?"_ /

* * *

Feeling like there were fire ants under his skin Derek bounced up and stormed out of the room. The second he found a vending machine he kicked it hard, several times over until he wondered if a toe had been broken. He had no idea of the tears which first flowed, then dried to his cheeks while he stared at the wall and gasped like a drowning man.

The sounds of a slamming door and Spencer's sobs, which the genius tried to hold back so very bravely, still echoed in Derek's ears after almost seven years.

This time Derek had no idea how long it took before he managed to persuade himself back to the waiting room. Only seconds later JJ walked in as well. It was easy to see that she'd been crying and wasn't far from breaking down again.

"How's the kid?" David inquired, a slight weaver in tone betraying the man's feelings.

JJ cleared her throat and sighed, her eyes darting around without managing to lock on a definite target. "He's… He's badly bruised, and in a shock. And they think that he may have a concussion. So… We can't interview him yet. Or _talk_. But… He'll be okay." Grief flooded to her eyes. Despite her best efforts she'd never become quite as skilled at hiding her emotions as the rest of them. "He has no idea who I am, who any of us are. He isn't even Spencer anymore."

"So…" Derek swallowed, feeling physically ill, and stared at his shoes in hopes that it was a boring enough of a target to keep him from breaking into a scream. "When he…" Died? Vanished? What word was he supposed to use?

"He told me that he was mugged." JJ sighed, her shoulders slumping. "He woke up in a hospital and… Well, he had to learn to know himself again. Had to building a new life, with a new name."

"What's he called now?" Alex asked softly, her eyes a little moist.

"Matthew."

The silence filling up the room was heavy and loaded. "Is there any hope that he'll ever remember us?" Derek inquired quietly. Did he get his husband back only to realize that he was gone, after all?

The look JJ directed at him was that of apology. "I'm so sorry, but… According to the doctors the brain damage was severe. They don't think that he's ever going to remember what he doesn't by now."

Derek felt like the ground just vanished from under his feet, sucking him to a black hole.

* * *

Matthew felt like he couldn't breathe. Being abducted by a serial killer and taking down the monster were one thing. Having the part of his life before he became Matthew come back to haunt him… Now that was something else entirely.

All these people who knew the part of him that wasn't him… They could've given him all the answers he'd so desperately wanted. But did he really want to jump into that rabbit hole? For any of their sakes?

Because he could see how much they'd missed him. How much they wanted him to come home. How much they wanted him to _come back_.

What if he'd never be able to or even willing to give them what they wanted, what they expected of him?

Eventually he couldn't stand just laying still anymore. Ignoring how dizzy and unsteady on his feet he felt he hoisted himself up and wandered to the hallway. The second he saw an opportunity to get coffee he felt his eyes brighten and spirits lift. And although the coffee was hospital quality it tasted divine. He unleashed a sigh of happiness without noticing it, relaxing.

Until a voice that sounded familiar and unfamiliar at once spoke from directly behind him. Sounding so sad that something inside him _hurt_. "Well, you did always love coffee."

He almost dropped the mug he'd been holding. It took several moments before he managed to coax himself into turning around. He cleared his throat to buy himself some time. "I, ah…" He shifted and blinked rapidly, the headache he'd been trying to soothe with the coffee intensifying. "Sorry, but this… This is w-weird. I… I never expected to meet someone from… before. Didn't know that s-someone waited."

Derek's mouth opened several times. What eventually came out was closer to a sob than a chuckle. The man couldn't seem to stop staring at him. "I…" The agent shook his head. "I can't believe that you're really here."

Looking into those heartbroken eyes, Matthew wished more than anything that he would've been able to take at least some of that pain away. That for a second, just one, he could've been what the agent so desperately needed. Or that he would've had the power to take away the still searing love that was burning Derek alive.

But he was gone and he wasn't, and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

"Sp… Matthew…" Derek's lips remained open for a blink before whatever the man had been planning on saying faded away. The agony in those eyes didn't go anywhere. "Did JJ let you know how to reach us?" At a nod the older man went on. "Contact us, anytime, even if it's not about the case. We… We've missed you."

How was he supposed to tell Derek that the man he missed was gone?

* * *

It was almost unbearable. To stand there, looking at the face he loved so much that it took his breath away and knowing that the person hiding underneath wasn't the same anymore. What made it even worse was the fact that Spencer now wore a ring he didn't put on the man's finger.

Apparently Derek wasn't hurting enough yet.

"Oh god, I thought…!" A woman rushed to them and hugged Spencer tightly, desperately, burying her face to his shoulder. Holding on to Spencer like she feared that he might slip right through her fingers. She was trembling. "When… When they called…"

The absolutely worst was seeing the look on Spencer's face. To see all that love in the man's eyes when he held the woman and kissed the top of her head, to see exactly how much those two cared about each other.

When Spencer whispered the words Derek had been dreaming about for almost seven years to the woman's ear the older man turned and began to walk away, feeling like he'd been leaving tiny, sharp pieces of his heart behind.

* * *

/ _"I love you."_ /

* * *

Embracing Maeve, Matthew lifted his gaze upon sensing movement. And for some reason he felt like his home was right there in his arms but also walking away. Like his heart had been torn in two.

Helpless tears filled his eyes, only one of them spilling.

"Mattie?" Maeve held him just a little closer. It helped him feel marginally better.

"Let's go home", he murmured and kissed her hair, then her cheek. "I… I need to hold you, and Morgan. Please, let's go home." He felt like there wasn't enough air in the building, his lungs were hurting and no matter how hard he breathed it didn't help him feel better. He recognized an oncoming panic attack, no matter how little he liked it. And he needed to get away, had to get away, needed to go home. To where it was safe. He needed his family.

"Okay." Maeve kissed his cheek, and it helped ground him. Made breathing a little easier. "Let's go home."

* * *

/ _"I love you."_

 _"Sorry?"_ /

* * *

Derek didn't know how long he sat in a car at the hospital's parking lot. Or how many phone calls from Penelope he ignored. He couldn't cry. Couldn't scream. Couldn't even allow himself to fall apart. And all the resulting pressure made him feel like he'd been torn to shreds.

Eventually he realized that there was only one thing that could help. He grabbed his phone, relieved when it remained in his hold although his hands shook miserably. It took torturously long before someone picked up. " _Hey, dad. What's going on? I was just studying._ "

Derek chuckled, hoping from the bottom of his heart that the child didn't hear his tears. "Hey, buddy. It's nothing, I just…" He cleared his throat. "I thought I'd let you know that I'll be home soon. I miss you."

" _I miss you too, dad. You big softie._ " The child sounded sad, but clearly did his best to remain brave. " _I almost blew up the school's laboratory today..._ "

* * *

/ _"You asked me what I'd say to him, if I got the chance to redo my last words to him." Derek wiped his eyes, barely registering the moisture. "I'd tell him that I love him. And that he and our son are the best things that have ever happened to me."_ /

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Oh dear… So the plot and angst thickens. Because of course we know that now, Reid won't be able to stay away from the team and Morgan, fate will continue to pull them together. But how will this mess be sorted? Who gets a happy ending or does anyone?

PLEASE, do leave a note! Thoughts? Rants?

It's LATE and I really have to tune out, now. Until next time! I REALLY hope that I'll see you all there.

Take care!

* * *

Ripon: It's good to be back! (BEAMS and hugs) I'm really happy that you enjoyed the first chapter! We'll see what the rest will bring.

Colossal thank yous for the review!

* * *

Guest (1): Awww, I'm glad you do! And I really hope that you'll continue to enjoy the ride.

Huge thank yous for the review!

* * *

Sniper: It means A LOT that you enjoyed the beginning of the story so much! I truly hope that what's to come meets all your expectations.

Spencer's DEFINITELY my favorite, too! (BEAMS, and high fives)

THANK YOU, so very much, for the lovely review!

* * *

Guest (2): I'm REALLY happy that you think so! I truly hope that you'll find what's to come as captivating.

Massive thank yous for the review!

* * *

Guest (3): YAY! (BEAMS) Oh, how I hope that you'll be as pleased with what's to come!

Colossal thank yous for the review!


	3. Sweet Child of Mine

A/N: PHEW! I almost didn't manage an update today. But here we are! Hooray…?

MY GOSH, thank you so much for all your amazing reviews, listings and love! I can't believe how many of you have joined this emotional ride. (HUGS) I really hope that you'll continue to enjoy the flight, despite all the turbulence…!

Awkay, because it's LATE… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

Sweet Child of Mine

* * *

/ _No one remembers their own birth, of course. But for some incredibly lucky people there's a moment, just a single radiant blink of an eye, that marks the true beginning of their lives. Like a jolt of electricity that brings a human heart to start a second time. Derek Morgan didn't believe in such nonsense. Not until one ridiculously cold day of December._

 _There were a lot of days when Derek wondered if he was insane when joining the FBI-academy. Days when he needed to remind himself, firmly, why he decided to do so in the first place. Then there were good days. And one that changed his life forever._

 _Derek was just finishing up a gym session when he heard hesitant steps. "I, ah… Apparently I need some tutoring with hand to hand. Sykes… told me to come to you."_

 _Irritated and curious, Derek turned to look. And experienced something that couldn't be described by words. He blinked once, twice._

 _The kid stood at the doorway… Was he even eighteen? But something in those hazel eyes…_

 _The arrival shifted awkwardly. "I'm Reid. Dr. Spencer Reid." A frown furrowed the young man's brows. "You're Derek Morgan, right?"_

 _Derek's heart thudded to life, violently, wonderfully._ /

* * *

/ _Like many other couples, eventually Derek and Spencer began to dream of having children. Obviously it couldn't happen the usual way. They couldn't believe their luck when Derek's sister Desiree agreed to be their egg donor and surrogate mother. At first Spencer was terrified of being the biological father. What if his genes would pass his mom's problems on to his child? What if his genes would destroy his child's life?_

 _Those worries weren't soothed in overnight, and he had a feeling that they wouldn't be until his child was eighty. But some of the terror squeezing his chest was eased by the kisses and softly whispered words from Derek. 'You're perfect, love. And no matter what, your kid's going to be perfect, too.'_

 _Their son was born on Spencer's twenty-first birthday. And true to Derek's words, every ounce of him was perfection. Ten little toes and fingers, hair and skin from Derek's side, eyes and facial features from Spencer's. The most beautiful baby Spencer had ever seen._

 _Meeting his parents at the age of ten minutes, the baby didn't cry. Instead those eyes, lifetimes old and heartbreakingly innocent all at once, looked at them calmly and seemed to see far more than they were supposed to. Then, as though satisfied with what fate had granted him, the child yawned gloriously and fell asleep in front of his parents' adoring eyes._

 _"Hank", Spencer whispered._

 _Derek blinked twice and looked at his husband. Unsure if he heard correctly, not quite catching on. "What?"_

 _Spencer looked at him with the kind of a smile he'd never seen before, tears in his hazel eyes. "Hank Daniel Morgan-Reid", the genius clarified. "Our son." First name from Derek's father, the second from Spencer's mother. Perfection._

 _Derek realized that he'd never loved anyone more than he did the two precious beings in his arms._ /

* * *

/ _Baby Morgana didn't make a sound when she was born in the backseat of her parents' car. She was so excited about being born that she forgot to. Even forgot to breathe for the longest thirty seconds of her parents' life._

 _"Matthew?" Maeve whimpered, unashamed of how weak and desperate her voice sounded. "What's wrong? Why isn't she crying?"_

 _Matthew wanted to cry. Wanted to scream. But as he stared at his daughter's lifeless looking face he was too much in a shock for either. Almost forgot to breathe, too. "Please", he murmured at last, sacrificing whatever little breath he had to that desperate exhale. With three horribly trembling fingers he massaged the baby's chest. "Please, love, breathe for daddy. A nice, big breath… Please…!"_

 _So unexpectedly that it startled Matthew, brought him closer to dropping the child than he'd ever admit to Maeve, the baby gasped, nearly convulsed in his arms. And began to cry at the top of her lungs. Announcing her arrival to the whole world, daring anyone to question her existence and worth._

 _Tears rolled down Matthew's cheeks without him even noticing it. He pulled the baby closer to his chest, as though afraid that otherwise she'd be snatched away. "Hey there, sweetie", he rasped. "Welcome to the world."_

 _He would've never, ever admitted it to anyone. Not to a single living soul. But as he sat there, in the same car with his whole world, Matthew felt a twinge of immense ache tainting the joy that threatened to take his breath away once more. It was longing that he had no way of explaining._ /

* * *

The rainstorm seemed to come from out of nowhere. The noise it made upon battering the car was almost deafening. As was the silence which lingered between the two people sitting inside.

"Married?"

Matthew nodded slowly. Barely even comprehending it himself. He buried his horribly aching head to his hands and barely registered how badly they were trembling.

"Jennifer… She doesn't know what happened. No one does. All this time, they thought that I was…" He gulped laboriously, feeling sick.

He was married. He had another life. Someone he swore to spend the rest of his life with, or the person he used to be swore, anyway. And then…

How was he supposed to ignore this? How was he supposed to ignore that he was making someone as miserable by dying as by coming back from the dead? How would he ever forget the anguish in Derek's eyes?

And how would Maeve ever be able to look at him the same way again? Would she be able to love him even with the lost part of his life having come back to haunt them? His marriage to her… Was it even valid…?

Too many questions. Too many emotions. _Too much._

Maeve was quiet for a long time. Too long. "So… That man you were talking to… He was your…?"

He nodded again, unable to utter a sound.

"And… Your name was Spencer?" Maeve was trying, so very hard and bravely, to process it all. He wanted desperately to take all her anguish away. (Why did he have to cause so much misery on the people who loved him?) "You were a profiler?"

"Yeah." He barely believed it himself. Another bout of nausea and intense headache made him shudder. There was a time when he wanted these answers more than anything, wanted anxiously to find out who he'd been. He should've been careful with what he wished for. His chest tightened painfully when he looked at his wife, and for the first time he didn't feel like he had the right to kiss her, no matter how much they both needed it. His eyes stung hellishly. "Maeve, I swear, if I had any idea…"

"How long have we been married?" Maeve scolded him gently. Her hold on his hand tightened a little. "I know you."

That was a hint of comfort. Despite everything. But only for a moment. Because the worst was yet to come. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth before pushing out the words. "And, Jennifer… She let something slip." He licked his lips in a subconscious nervous habit. "Said that 'those two have missed you so much'."

Maeve's hand shuddered. There was a beat's pause. "'Two'?"

How to voice it? How to pull her even deeper into this chaos? "I have a son", he breathed out, the words heavy on his tongue.

Rain continued to hammer the car.

* * *

Children see a lot more than adults imagine.

It was rather late in the evening, hours after the phone call, Hank's dad came home from the case. He'd been staying at his aunt Desiree's house during the case and noticed long before his dad's arrival how worried Desiree became. He tried asking if something was wrong. If his dad was okay. She wouldn't tell him anything. He wasn't sure if he should've been furious or terrified. What filled him was a mixture of both. Hank fought to handle those emotions like he usually did. He put on a pair of glasses and buried himself to a physics book that was barely challenging enough to keep his buzzing mind occupied.

Eventually Desiree headed outside, reacting almost instantly to the sounds of a car. Did she wipe her eyes on her way? Almost an hour passed. Confused and more than a little worried, Hank couldn't wait any longer. He peered through the window, to the dusk. And shivered.

Outside Desiree and his dad were hugging each other tightly. His dad had buried his face to his aunt's shoulder so he couldn't see the look on the man's face. But he saw the way his dad's whole frame was trembling. The man hadn't cried like that since… since… ( _since pa's death_ , Hank didn't want to think, didn't want to relive the worst day of his entire life, from childhood he'd almost managed to forget – he didn't want to think about anything concerning his pa because it hurt too much.)

What was wrong?

A one more hour later they were making their way towards home. Both too deep in thought to talk. Eventually Hank couldn't hold it in anymore. "Dad? What's going on?"

As soon as he saw the look on his dad's face he wished that he never asked. The man swallowed convulsively, feeling sick, holding back tears or both. Not casting a glance towards him. "I…" The man cleared his throat. "I'll tell you, but… Not now. Not yet."

The sincere apology in his dad's tone made whatever objections Hank had get stuck into his throat.

That evening they watched hockey together. Escaped a storm Hank couldn't quite understand. Outside the rain kept falling mercilessly.

* * *

Children see a lot more than adults imagine.

It was late and Morgana was supposed to be asleep. She'd almost dozed off when something she couldn't quite understand woke her up. A shiver. A chill in the air.

She frowned. "Daddy? Mommy?" Once she was fully awake she remembered that her parents weren't home, that was why grandma had come to watch Pixar-films and they had a pizza-party.

Confused, Morgana sat up on her bed, then crawled to the window that was right next to her bed. She looked down to the house's front yard, peered through the rain. At first a radiant smile lit up her whole being when she saw a familiar car. Until two people climbed out of the vehicle and fear, caused by something she was too young to understand, grabbed a frosty hold of her.

Her mommy had been crying. She could tell, because she'd they both cried at the same scenes in some movies and knew the signs. And there were bruises on her daddy's face, so pale that he seemed to be glowing against the fast darkening night. Both adults looked so incredibly tired and sad that it tore at her child's heart.

What was wrong?

Morgana hated being such a coward but she couldn't bring herself to leave her room for a very long time. She heard her parents and grandma talking quietly, then her grandma leaving. She pretended to be asleep when the woman stopped by in her room before departing. After that there was only silence, so heavy that it formed a ball into the pit of her stomach.

Finally Morgana gathered her courage and struggled herself out of the bed. Her steps were soundless and hesitant while she made her way downstairs. The living room was dark, but despite the lack of light she saw the outlines of her parents on the couch, her mommy sitting while her daddy rested with his head on her lap. The child froze, suddenly hesitant. "Daddy has a headache?" she guessed in a whisper and bit at her lower lip. She still hated those, even though he'd had them all her life. They scared her, and there was nothing she could do to take them away. And they always seemed to last a lifetime. What if one day one of them wouldn't go away at all?

Her mommy cleared her throat and sighed. "Yeah, sweetie", the woman confirmed softly, then wiped her eyes before looking towards her. "You should be sleeping."

Morgana shook her head, shifting weight from one foot to another. "Can't sleep", she admitted. Sleepless nights had happened on occasion for as long as she could remember. On some nights her mind was just too loud to allow her to rest. Tonight, though, she was restless for something else entirely. "Is daddy okay?"

"Yeah, sweetie." Her daddy pushed himself to a sitting position, and she was just quick enough to notice a wince. "Just… A long day."

Morgana was scared. Needed her parents. So she made her way to the couch and happily snuggled to their comforting warmth. "Can't sleep", she murmured.

"Me neither." Her daddy kissed her hair. "I have an idea. Forget about bedtime. Let's be silly and watch a movie. Whatever's in the player."

Her mommy grinned. And it was so familiar that it was soothing. "So you do have a wild side."

Morgana made her way eagerly to the DVD-player. She didn't know what movie was inside, didn't really care. As long as she could stay on the couch with her parents, where it was safe, she'd feel safe and happy. She'd be able to convince herself that whatever it was about all this that scared her didn't exist.

As it turned out the movie was 'Finding Dory'. Morgana fell asleep halfway through it. She never saw how tightly her parents held each other's hands.

* * *

Much later that night, when it was almost morning, Matthew and Maeve lay wide awake in their bed. It was Maeve who spoke first. "You need to contact him", she pointed out, her voice sounding wrong even to her own ears.

Her husband… He had a former life neither of them had no idea of before this. And now…

Maeve was terrified of what these revelations would do to them and their relationship. Scared to death that she'd lose her husband to the ghosts from his past. But she also realized that there was a boy she could rob off his father. It'd kill Matthew to live pretending that he didn't have a son, somewhere out there. Not seeing with his own eyes that his son was happy and doing alright, even with him having been stolen away.

Matthew's lips opened twice but nothing came out. Eventually he rolled to the side, then pulled her as close to him as possible. She held back eagerly, snuggled so close that it felt like she was trying to melt together with him. They both needed the contact.

Neither slept that night.

* * *

Elsewhere Derek was also having a sleepless night. Now that he knew that his husband was alive all he wanted was to have the man there. In his bed. In his arms.

Each time that thought spun around in his mind his head reminded him that the man he once married wasn't Spencer anymore.

Spencer was someone else, now. Belonged to someone else's bed. Someone else's arms.

Each repeat of those solemn facts made Derek feel like someone had been tearing his heart from his chest.

He shivered when his phone buzzed uncomfortably loudly and frowned. Didn't they just wrap up a case? They couldn't be…

But it wasn't a case. Derek didn't recognize the number but as soon as he opened the message he felt his head spin. He had to take a moment to gather himself.

' _I know that I have no right to ask for anything. And I know that you're taking a good care of our son. But can I ask you just one question?_ '

Derek stared at his phone, his heart hammering and barely breathing. How did Spencer even know…? _JJ._ How could she…! She had no right…!

But now was hardly the time for that anger. Derek took a deep, shuddering breath. Then sent his response. ' _Anything._ ' The word formed terrifyingly easily.

' _Is he happy?_ '

Whatever he'd been expecting… This wasn't it. Derek closed his eyes and counted four inhales before he was able to figure out how to answer. ' _He is. He's happy and brilliant. The best thing in my life._ ' _And so much like you that sometimes it hurts._

It took a while before Spencer responded. ' _I'm so sorry that I haven't been there. That everything went so wrong._ '

Derek didn't realize that he was crying until he wiped his eyes. ' _Not your fault. Ever._ '

This time the response took even longer. Like Spencer was hesitating. ' _You're happy, too, aren't you?_ '

Derek's heart was squeezed in a manner that couldn't be healthy. He swore under his breath and stared at the room's ceiling for a long time before finally gathering himself. ' _Yes._ ' He would be, eventually, despite what he now knew. He'd have to be, because no one could possibly feel like this forever. He tried so very hard to be. ' _Goodnight_ ', he wrote as quickly as he could. Wanting to seal the conversation because he couldn't take any more than this.

Spencer seemed to understand. Maybe even felt the same way. ' _Goodnight._ ' It sounded too much like the 'goodbye' they never got the chance to say, once.

Derek didn't sleep. He lay there, staring at the shadows and tried very hard to just keep breathing. And wished from the bottom of his heart that he would've been able to tell his husband all those things that he really wanted to say. Things that he did try to say, once, sent to a phone that was destroyed on the same night when his world came tumbling down.

' _I miss you._ '

' _Please come back home._ '

' _I love you._ '

' _I'm sorry._ '

* * *

Matthew did fall asleep soon after Derek's final message. But he slept fitfully. Dreamt of a little boy who might've been a distant echo of his lost memories or just a trick of his imagination. Dreamt of the attack he recently went through, of being captured by a serial killer. And of the looks on both Derek and Maeve's faces when his two worlds – the one he lost and the one he found – crashed together. Somehow those facial expressions, not the trauma, were what made him cry and whimper in his sleep.

* * *

Hank was only twelve but he had an IQ of 192. (Although he didn't really believe in those tests.) The following morning he could tell that something was bothering his dad.

He never, ever wanted to see that look of grief and heartbreak in his dad's eyes. Not again. Not when they'd finally learned to be happy with just the two of them. Whoever was causing this new anguish…

Hank noticed the constant, longing glances his dad cast towards the man's phone. When his dad headed to a shower the child decided to take action. Decided that it was high time he was a man and protected his family. Whatever was left of it, anyway.

It didn't take him long to find the chain of messages his dad hadn't had the heart to delete but it took very, very long before it finally sunk in what he was staring at.

It was the first time Hank headed to school without saying 'bye' to his dad.

* * *

It'd been a long day. Matthew and Maeve did their best to continue normally but how in the world were they supposed to do that under the circumstances? It didn't help matters that Matthew couldn't go to work due to the previous day's events and still had a crushing headache. Maeve let him out of her sight with visible reluctance, a kiss that made him feel ten times better and a promise that she'd be home as soon as she could with herbal tea that'd hopefully help with the pain. Physical and otherwise.

At around noon Matthew decided that he needed some fresh air and headed to a walk, despite the still pouring rain. As soon as he came back he got the feeling that something was wrong. And then he noticed the figure huddled to his doorsteps, trembling pitiably and soaked by rain.

A boy in his early teens. Very dark short hair, a slightly darker skin than his. But those eyes and facial features…

Matthew approached slowly, dazed, his legs so weak that it was a miracle they carried him.

And then the boy noticed him. Those eyes widened and filled with an overwhelming storm of emotions. Shock, joy, disbelief, rage, disappointment, grief, confusion… Somehow all that turmoil was squeezed into one, barely audible word. "Pa?"

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: And you thought that it was bad and angsty enough with just the adults… (winces) Now, how in the world is this mess going to continue and end?!

Thoughts? Comments? PLEASE, do drop a line or two to let me know! I'd LOVE to hear from you.

Awkay, because it's REALLY late I've gotta go. Until next time! I REALLY hope that you'll all join in then.

Take care!

* * *

Ash59: I'm really happy to hear that you've enjoyed the first couple of chapters! And don't worry, this story WILL be finished. Whatever kind of an ending there'll be… (gulps) We'll see how this story continues.

Colossal thank yous for the review!

* * *

ripon: DEFINITELY lots of feels! Those poor things! And that was only chapter two. (winces) We'll see just how painful it gets before the end…

Massive thank yous for the review! Until next time.

* * *

Guest: It means A LOT to hear that! (BEAMS)

HUGE thank yous for the review!

* * *

lullu: Awww, those kind words REALLY warm my heart! I truly hope that the next chapter meets your expectations. (smiles)

Monumental thank yous for the review!


	4. How to Break a Heart

A/N: Phew! It's sooooooo late. But I couldn't let another day go without updating. Yay?

First, though… THANK YOU, so very much, for your absolutely amazing reviews! It warms my heart that so many of you have joined this painful journey. (HUGS)

Awkay, because I've already kept you waiting… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

How to Break a Heart

* * *

/ _Derek, still a little boy, had nodded off but woke up to the sounds of steps approaching their house. He glanced towards the clock and grinned with excitement upon realizing that it was the time when his dad was supposed to come back home. He dashed out of the bed and towards the front door. Only to freeze before he got there._

 _Because instead of his dad he saw a perfect stranger in a police officer's uniform, a large man with a somber expression on his face. And at that horrible, heart shattering moment he knew that his worst fear had come true. His dad was never coming back home._

 _When his mom broke to hysterical sobs he wished that he would've been able to do the same._ /

* * *

/ _Spencer knew that his father was leaving. But he couldn't bring himself to stop trying, not when his mom was crying in the bedroom and he needed to fix this. "Dad, you can't leave us. Mom…"_

 _"I can't stay here anymore." The man met his eyes but only for a second. Was the man ashamed or disgusted? Or both? "Please, Spencer, don't make this harder than this has to be."_

 _Spencer gulped, unable to understand. "I'm only ten!" he argued, failing to see the logic behind this. "I can't look after mom! Why won't you take me with you?" He tried to get closer to the man but failed. "She asked you to take me with you. Why won't you?"_

 _"Because every day you sound and seem more like your mother." His father was already at the door. "I wouldn't be able to look at you without being reminded of how I failed her. And how I failed to raise you to be normal." The man opened the door and sighed heavily, shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry, Spencer. But you two will always be my biggest failures in life. And I can't bear being reminded of it every day." With that the door was slammed closed, while Spencer's hand was still reaching out towards his father._

 _Spencer didn't cry after his father, on that day or on any day after. Five minutes later his hand finally fell. An hour more later he also fell, slumped to a sitting position. He sat there, staring at the door until he collapsed from exhaustion. His mom didn't leave the bedroom the entire time._ /

* * *

/ _Hank was already asleep when something brought him back to awareness. After a few moments of confusion he heard the voices and tensed up to a painful extend. His parents were fighting, most likely far more loudly than they imagined. Hank couldn't distinguish the words but the tones spoke clearly enough. And then something carried to his ears._

 _"_ That's right, be your father's son and leave us! _"_

 _Those words were met by the kind of frosty silence that seized Hank's breath. He waited with a furiously hammering heart. And then a door was slammed closed._

 _Curious and worried, Hank sat up and crawled his way to the window. He finally recognized the person outside when street lamps revealed the face. "Pa?" he called out. Even if he knew that the man wouldn't hear him from the window separating them. He frowned, a horrible feeling growing inside him. "Pa, come back!"_

 _But his pa still didn't hear him. Instead the man wiped his face and hopped into a car, then drove off. He couldn't understand why the sight of the vehicle disappearing to the horizon made him cry._

 _Until the following morning when his dad explained, with beyond rare tears in his eyes, that there'd been an accident and pa was never coming back home again._ /

* * *

Once Hank had a phone number, finding its owner wasn't much of a challenge. Fifteen minutes at the school's computer class and he had an address. What surprised him was the name.

 _Matthew Dahl?_

Hank decided that he had a good enough reason to skip the rest of the school day. He had no idea what he was going to say or do. What to expect. He just knew that whatever it was, he needed to face it. Had to get answers. Because if there was even a small chance…

The emotional turmoil he went through during the bus ride would've been too much even for someone much older. Shock… Anger… Confusion… Disappointment… Betrayal… And desperate hope.

His pa left him and his dad. For years and years they grieved his death. And pa was alive, after all? Would the man come back home, if he asked? Did he even want that to happen?

 _Nothing_ would've prepared Hank for the impact of actually facing the man. Because the second he looked into those eyes, so much like his own, memories flowed through him a tidal wave. His pa reading to him while he lay in his bed, fighting against sleep. Those arms carrying him. He felt so safe, there in his pa's hold… That was what Hank remembered clearly, no matter how young he was when he lost it all. The warmth and safety. That voice, the one which always convinced him that everything would be okay.

"Pa?"

Hank had no idea which hurt more. To remember more than he'd expected. Or the look on his pa's face.

Moments passed by torturously slowly after that. They stared at each other, strangers although they were supposed to be family. Eventually his pa took a step closer, then another. "How did you find me? How l-long have you been sitting there?" The worry in those eyes was such only a parent could feel, somehow made it all hurt more. So close and so far…

"Why did you leave us?" Hank couldn't contain himself any longer. He was glad that it was raining because he wasn't ready to let the man see his tears. "Parents… They're not supposed to do that to their kids. Dads don't just walk away."

It was easy to tell how much those words hurt. His pa shuddered, and it took a very long moment before any words agreed to come out. "I promise you, I didn't l-leave by choice. I…" The man swallowed hard. "I don't know what happened, but… I _know_ t-that it wasn't my choice. Nothing could've made me leave y-you or your dad."

Hank wiped his eyes although it was ridiculous with the rain and tears filling them constantly. His heart was hammering, so hard that he feared it might burst. For so long, almost as long as he could remember, his greatest wish had been to one day hear those words, to get back the parent he lost. But now… "I wish I could believe you", he murmured, feeling incredibly heavy and sad.

Obviously his words hurt. But his pa shook his head and the man's eyes were warm, sincere. "You don't have to. I don't expect you to. But… C-Come inside. We need to call y-your dad."

Hank wasn't sure if he wanted to enter the house. If he wanted anything to do with this man who was and wasn't his dad. But he was cold, miserable and suddenly exhausted. How was he supposed to refuse the invitation to warmth? He nodded stiffly, still unsure, and followed the man who felt like a stranger.

Facing what was inside… was bizarre. It all felt familiar, just a little bit. Something about the house's air reminded him of home. It all looked so right. Yet something… was off. Like a violin out of tune. (Hank should know. He'd tried to start playing four times already and it always sounded horrible.)

Hank stood stuck in the entrance hallway. One third of him wanting to run away, the second wishing to destroy the whole place out of grief-fueled rage and the final part wanting nothing but to curl up and cry. This was _too much_.

Before he could even begin to properly process what he wanted to do his pa walked into view. The man's hand shook while it pocketed a phone. "I… called your dad. H-He'll be here soon."

Hank nodded slowly and looked away. A million questions buzzed in his head, making it hurt. "He found out during the case." That was why his dad was so sad. That was what his dad hid from him. The feeling of betrayal was overwhelming.

"We… met accidentally." His pa sighed heavily, appearing every bit as uncertain and pained as he was. "I'm sorry…"

Hank wasn't ready to hear apologies. Not yet. Not when he wasn't sure he'd ever accept them. "You left us. You changed your name, and started a new life. In the same city. You…" He wiped his eyes angrily. "You didn't come back. That _was_ your choice. You stayed away, like we didn't even exist anymore." At some point the tears started rolling anew. He didn't care. Not with how much he was hurting, from the bottom of his child's heart. "Did you… Did you ever really love us?" Every evening story… Every kiss to the top of his head… Every hug… Were they all a lie?

Tears filled his pa's eyes, too, even if none of them spilled. The man swallowed thickly. "I…" Another gulp, a choked one. "I stayed away, b-because… I had… an accident, and… I'm so sorry. I'm really sorry." Despite his own ache he could tell that his pa meant it, from the bottom of his heart. "But… I can't… I don't r-remember you. At all. And I… I wish that I did, more than you know, b-because you… you deserve more… You deserve better than…" The man gestured towards himself. "… _this_."

Hank had no idea how to handle all this. What to think. How to feel when he felt _too much_.

The slow, hesitant knock startled them both. Apparently neither of them had remembered to close the door because his dad stood by it, confusion and worry on his tired face. "What…?"

Hank hated himself for his decision. He'd been raised better than to be a coward. But he was only a teenager and this was far too much on him. So he _ran_ , as fast as he could, from something he'd spent countless of sleepless nights praying to happen.

* * *

When the school called Derek to let him know that Hank was missing he panicked. Disappearing definitely wasn't something his son did. The terror lasted until he got a message from Spencer and everything clicked to place. And it hurt.

But not even nearly as much as what he found.

Derek heard Hank's voice shouting the second he climbed out of his car and tensed up. He'd never heard Hank raise his voice, not even when they fought. He didn't exactly want to enter his husband's new home but what other choice did he have?

Grief and hurt floated from the house in waves, as clearly as Hank's still continuing words. Followed by Spencer's agonized words. By then he managed to reach the doorway and felt his already shattered heart break just a little more.

The last time he saw his son in that much pain was when they thought Spencer died. Back then the grief was the silent kind, like Hank simply locked up a part of himself. No amount of therapy helped break those damns. Now they were all crashing down with force that seemed to be shattering the teenager.

And the sheer agony on Spencer's face… No matter how valiantly the man fought it was palpable. Like the genius was getting his heart torn to shreds.

The two people who mattered the most to Derek in the whole world were in unfathomable amount of pain and he had no idea how to help either one of them when he was also hurting far too much.

It took a long time before Derek found his voice. "What…" His son rushed past him. "… is going on here?" A car's door opened and slammed shut, signaling where the boy went.

Spencer swallowed thickly, his face terrifyingly pale. The man refused to meet his gaze. "I… I had to tell him, that I don't remember. That…" The genius closed his eyes for a long moment, then tried again in a barely recognizable voice. "That I… I'm not only a-alive, and stayed away. But that I don't r-remember him. At all. That his other parent… has no idea w-who he is. Not in a way that'd matter."

Derek sighed heavily, a horrific weight settling on his chest. With all there was in him he wanted to go his husband, to hug and comfort the man he loved. To whisper promises and soothing words of affection. And it was killing him that he couldn't. "I'm sorry. I thought that I'd have the time to break it to him…"

Spencer shook his head immediately. Still not looking at him. "Not your fault."

"Not yours, either", Derek pointed out. "Just… bad luck. A lot of it."

A tiny, very sad smile appeared to Spencer's lips. "That… sounds familiar. Somehow. Bad luck."

Derek was strong. He'd been forced to be, since he was a boy. But even he had he limits. And he couldn't resist the temptation anymore.

At first Spencer tensed up when he folded the man he once shared his bed with to a hug. But soon the genius practically melted against him, buried his head to his shoulder. There, holding the other even closer and inhaling the familiar scent that hadn't changed at all, Derek pretended for a few moments that it was all just a bad dream. The fight. Spencer's death. Spencer's return as a man who wasn't really Spencer. Derek convinced himself, for a few merciful moments of self-deceit, that he'd never have to let go of his husband again. He grabbed two fistfuls of the other's shirt and clutched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Held on desperately, for as long as he could. He even managed to trick himself into believing that Spencer held him back with equal despair.

For those fast ticking away seconds everything was perfect because Derek could almost, so clearly that it made him shiver, imagine…

* * *

/ _How, instead of leaving on that fateful night, Spencer came back. Made his way to him and kissed him. Somehow heard the words he'd been supposed to say. "Of course I forgive you", the genius murmured in that bittersweet fantasy. "Because you two are the best things that have ever happened to me, too. I love you."_ /

* * *

Then both their phones received a text message, shattering the frail illusion and sending shards through Derek's heart. He cleared his throat and stepped away like his husband burned. Fought to distance himself, for both their sakes. "I, ah…"

"Go." Spencer wiped his eyes almost quickly enough for it to not be spotted. "He needs you. Look after him." It was easy to see how badly the man would've wanted to look after Hank, too. Comfort. Reassure. Support. But as it was…

Derek nodded, slowly becoming aware of how close to Spencer he still stood. Near enough for him to feel the other's warmth. "I'll talk to him. Try to get him to understand."

Spencer sighed heavily, and a ton's weight seemed to slump on the man's shoulders. "How are you g-going to do that, when even we d-don't understand?"

Derek had no idea so he didn't answer. He frowned and shifted, even the thought of leaving without his husband was unbearable now that the other was right there, so close and vulnerable. Needing help and support. "Are you sure…?"

"I'll be fine." Spencer's tone made it perfectly clear how little objections would be appreciated. "So go. And c-call me, if there's anything…" The man trailed off.

Derek nodded. Obeying instinct he leaned forward and almost pressed a kiss on Spencer's forehead before he could stop himself. His hand wasn't steady while he moved a strand of hair from the genius' eyes instead. "Take care of yourself." He had no idea what else to say.

"You too." Spencer's eyes strayed towards the house's door with immense longing. "Both of you."

Derek wanted to kiss Spencer. Promise that everything would be alright. But he couldn't. So instead he did the almost unthinkable and walked away. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done.

* * *

Watching Derek walk away was far harder than it should've been. That ache, however, barely registered with how much Matthew's head was hurting. Like his skull had been torn to pieces. He groaned and massaged the bridge of his nose, desperate to do anything that might make the discomfort lessen.

He didn't notice the tears that finally slid to his cheeks, his self-control shattering now that there was no one present to stay strong for.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, he was able to grab his phone. It took far longer than it should've to get the message open. The second he did his blood ran cold. It was from Maeve.

' _911_ '

* * *

When Derek made it to his car, slowly like his feet weighed a ton each, Hank was sitting stiffly on the passenger's seat. Seatbelt on and legs brought to his chest, looking away resolutely. The boy's whole posture told anyone looking to go away.

Derek sighed heavily and began to drive, wondering how any of them was ever going to cope with this.

Neither spoke a word. Nor did they leave the vehicle when Derek parked outside their house. The silence became heavy and loaded until it burst. "No more skipping school, Hank. And no more fiddling with my phone without a permission." He snorted at his son's surprised stare. "What, you didn't expect me to figure out how you found out and got his address? I'm a profiler, kid."

/ _"… kid …"_ /

/ _"… pretty boy …"_ /

/ _"… love …"_ /

/ _"… husband …"_ /

"Dad?" Hank's worried voice pulled him back from those razor-sharp memories. "You… zoned out a bit."

Derek chuckled. It didn't sound right. "Sorry. Just…" He cleared his throat and looked away, then back at his son. As firmly as he could manage. "No more running around without a permission, Hank. Ever. Of course you can go and see your pa…"

Hank shook his head instantly and looked away once more. "I'm never going to see that man again." It was said with the kind of finality that tore at them both.

Derek's eyebrows furrowed. "He… has health problems, but he's still your parent. Why…?"

"Because he _isn't_ pa anymore! He doesn't even have any idea who I am, he said so!" Hank didn't seem to be aware of his own tears. They shone as sun showed up after the rain. "He left us, and he should've never come back. I hate him."

Derek's chest constricted unhealthily. His mouth went so dry that it was a miracle he managed to produce a sound. "No, you don't. You're…!"

"Stop profiling me and listen to me!" Hank met his eyes with such that were so full of agony it would've been overwhelming for anyone. The amount of venom in the teenager's voice was crushing. "I hate him! Because even though he abandoned us you still love him so much that it's killing you! I have to hate him because you can't!" The boy didn't wait for his response, instead left the car and banged the door so loudly that it made Derek's ears ring.

Derek should've followed. Should've explained. But he couldn't. He was too exhausted, emotionally and physically. Until he wasn't.

In a fit of rage he didn't see coming he roared, from the bottom of his broken heart, and pummeled the steering wheel with his fist until the limb hurt.

Derek had no idea how long he'd been sitting there, gathering strength for pushing himself out of the vehicle, until he remembered the text. With a heavy sigh he rubbed his face aggressively with one hand, then fished out his phone. A jolt shot through him as he read the words.

' _Just to let you know… You're being very irritating, acting all mysterious. But I still can't wait to see you today. And to finally find out what agent Morgan's big surprise is all about -Savannah_ '

How in the world was he going to explain his new situation to her?

* * *

Morgana sighed, then moaned from the stab of pain it caused, as she began to wake up. In an instant she recognized the smell of a hospital. The machinery around her was too loud.

She remembered her chest hurting, so mercilessly that it made her cry, no matter how much she tried to stop herself. Then Miss Potts, her favorite adult if her parents were excluded, calling out her name in fright. So her heart forgot what it was supposed to do. Again.

It'd been doing that since she was born. Once, when she was fed up with being in a hospital all the time, Morgana asked her parents why she had to feel so sick. Her daddy told her that it was because her heart was so full of love it broke. That it's difficult for a poor heart to keep beating when it's made of solid gold. The silly answer made Morgana giggle, no matter how miserable she was feeling. Since then she'd decided that she liked that answer a lot more than the one she got from the doctors, when she heard them telling her parents stuff that she wasn't supposed to hear. She couldn't understand those words at all but they made her parents cry. She didn't want them to be sad. It made her heart hurt even more.

"Morgan?" A gentle hand stroked her head. She leaned instinctively to the touch. "Are you awake, sweetie?"

She nodded the best as she could. "Yeah, mommy." She wrinkled her nose and bit her lip to hold back a whimper. "Hurts."

"I'm sorry, sweetie." Her daddy, who lay on her other side on the hospital bed, kissed her hair. It took away just a little bit of the pain. "Today's a bad day. Why don't you sleep it off."

Stubborn, Morgana fought her eyes halfway open. She frowned at the expression on her daddy's face. "You look sad."

He sighed and stroked her cheek with one finger. "I'm sad when you're hurting. It's a parent thing." He smiled, even if it didn't look right. "But tomorrow will be a better day, you'll see. So sleep."

"You know… Yesterday you fell asleep before I got the chance to finish the fairytale of Cinderella and Prince Charming." Her mother stroked her hair gently. It helped with the pain, too. "What do you say if I'd tell the rest of it now?"

Morgana nodded eagerly, wishing that she'd had the breath and energy for actual words.

Morgana drifted to sleep with the aid of the fairytale and pain medication, safe in her parents' arms. She wasn't worried about nightmares. Prince Charming would chase them all away.

* * *

The second Penelope opened a door for Derek, who'd come to pick up a strictly grounded Hank, she knew that things weren't great. "His Royal Sulkiness is taking a nap in the guest room. I exhausted him with chess." She winced. "That bad, huh?" She let him enter, but not before a hug that made him relax at least a little bit. "So you told Savannah?"

Derek sighed heavily. Then nodded. "Yeah."

"What did she say?"

"That she needs to think."

Penelope shuddered. It was her turn to nod. "Today's definitely been double cheese and pepperoni -pizza level bad."

For a microsecond something that might've been the ghost of a smile could be seen on Derek's face. "Make it pizza and 'Desperate Housewives' bad."

Penelope winced again with sympathy. Then gave him a spontaneous second hug. If he didn't look like he needed one she didn't know who did. "I'd better get the chocolate ice-cream, too."

An hour and a half later, numbed by fictional drama and so full of junk food that they felt sick, the two of them sat on a couch. Penelope's head was rested against Derek's shoulder so she heard every sigh he attempted to conceal. And eventually, after over an hour of not saying a word, he half-whispered, his voice a pained hiss. "What the hell am I going to do?"

Penelope sighed as well and kissed his cheek. "First, you take some more ice-cream. Then you sleep. Tomorrow you'll try to explain this whole mess to your son. After that you can start trying to figure out what the next step should be."

Was that a whimper? Derek shifted. "I just… I want him back. Properly."

A horrific pang of sadness flared in Penelope as she remembered the young man who used to be one of her best friends. His smile… His voice… Those facts… "I know. I miss our resident genius, too. It hasn't been the same without him." She squeezed his knee tenderly, trying to lessen both their longing. "You know what? It's time to bring in the big guns. Go and get us that chocolate cake I tried to make for Henry's birthday. It's hideous but at least it tastes good."

"You always come up with the best ideas", Derek declared while hauling himself up.

She smiled. "I love you too. Now shush, this is my favorite part of the episode."

* * *

Night had already fallen while Matthew and Maeve still lay on their daughter's hospital bed. Both exhausted but unable to sleep. Even the thought that something might happen while they were slumbering…

"Fifteen", Matthew whispered, breaking the thoughtful silence that'd lasted for what felt like hours. "That's how many times you've shaken yourself awake in the past half an hour."

Maeve responded by kissing his neck gently. "Stop counting. I'm fine." She kissed him again, this time to his temple. "How's the head?"

Matthew shrugged. "I'm fine." The headache was still hammering his brain to pieces. He'd survive it, he had before. But as he looked at his daughter, he wasn't sure he'd survive _this_. He gulped and pulled his wife closer. "What if… What if this is the time, when…?" _When she doesn't go back home with us. What if this is_ it _?_

Maeve shook her head. "Not yet." She sounded so very sure, until she didn't. "She… She hasn't had that kitten she's been talking about. And she hasn't danced ballet yet." Maeve shook her head vigorously, her whole body trembling. "She… She isn't ready. Not yet." She broke down to the same bitter, soundless sobs she'd shed before. Too many times they'd thought…

Matthew held her the best as he could. Held both of them, even though it felt like handling quicksand. "Maybe you should call your parents."

Maeve stiffened. Then nuzzled her head against his shoulder. "In the morning." She grabbed his hand tightly, anxiously. The other hand was pressed gently to where their daughter's heart was beating.

Unable to do anything else Matthew kissed them both, then settled as comfortably as he could. His gaze was haunted as he stared at the shadows dancing on the walls. They'd had far too many endless nights like this before but somehow this one succeeded in being the worst. Because now he had two families that were suffering. Two children with broken hearts who were slipping away from him. And there was nothing he could do about it.

In the cover of the night five people, four of them wide awake and one sleeping more or less peacefully, shivered while their broken and breaking hearts struggled to continue beating.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: So… Yeah. See how painful this is going to get? I need you be very, VERY brave for what's to come. BUT, remember that it won't hurt forever! (HUGS you all, in preparation of what's to come)

Those poor, poor people – so much pain!

How is the story going to continue? How much heartache is still ahead, before the story wraps to a close? Who will be happy, and who won't?

Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope that I'll see you all there.

Take care!

* * *

ripon: Angst indeed! And more to come. (winces)

I'll do my best to make it as clear as possible. I really hope that it won't be too confusing! (HUGS)

Colossal thank yous for the review! Until next time.

* * *

Guest: I'm SUPER happy that you've enjoyed the tale thus far so much! (BEAMS) We'll see just what's to come…

Gigantic thank yous for the review!


	5. Reaching Out to You

A/N: PHEEEW! You know, I think I lost my 'CM'-fic-typing mojo for a while. BUT, tonight it finally returned. (BEAMS) I'm SO SORRY that I was gone for so long!

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all your reviews, love and support! You can't even imagine how much they mean to me. (HUGS)

Awkay, because I've kept you waiting… Let's go! I really hope that you'll find this worth the wait.

* * *

Reaching Out to You

* * *

Morgana knew that she was getting sicker. And it scared her. That morning she burst into tears when her mommy was forced to go and stop by at work. She knew that she was being a baby but the thought that she wouldn't be there when her mommy came back…

Her daddy stayed, though, and slowly yet surely it helped calm her down. He lay on the bed beside her, humming softly and stroking her hair. In the end she was almost asleep. Almost.

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

"Will it hurt?" She didn't have to clarify. This was something they'd talked about several times. Although she'd never asked with quite these words…

She felt bad for asking when he shuddered and tensed up. It took a while before he found his voice. "No, sweetie. It won't." It was baffling, even to someone of her age, how he barely stuttered with her. "They'll make sure that you get enough medicine."

Morgana nodded and closed her eyes, too tired to talk anymore. Her daddy's answer wasn't much. But it'd need to be enough.

She was even closer to falling asleep when there was a tiny beep from her daddy's phone. At that exact moment a nurse walked in. "I… I have to go. For an hour." And he hated it, she could tell, and wished that she had the words to ease his mind. "Could you…?"

"Of course." The nurse's soft voice began to sound distant. "I'll contact you immediately if something happens."

Morgana fell asleep without hearing her daddy's answer and, for which she was glad, without having to hear him leave.

* * *

The first time Hank was taken to see Dr. Irina Lily was a month after his pa died. (Or they thought that he died, anyway.) Despite how young Hank was at the time he understood why. He was so angry that he destroyed most of his toys and the night terrors he had made him start wetting his bed again. The last straw was when he stopped talking. Entirely. It took seven months before his mouth agreed to function again.

His pa's return was almost as traumatic as the man's alleged death. The man who came back might've as well been a stranger. There was no memory trace of their family, of the time they had together. How was a twelve-year-old supposed to handle that?

Chess was a good start.

"Have you thought about trying to talk to him again?"

Hank shivered. His hand wavered before he put down a chess piece. "You're trying to distract me."

"That, too. And I'm also some kind of a shrink. I'd be crappy at my job if I didn't at least try." Her eyes shifted briefly to him while she made her move. "He does love you, you know?"

Hank scoffed. Ache transforming to bitterness that was far easier to deal with. "Yeah, right… Then why has he been away most of my life?"

"To me it doesn't seem like he had much of a choice." She sounded genuinely sympathetic. He wasn't sure if he liked it or hated it. "Sometimes fate can be pretty unfair."

Hank nodded, a flash of unwanted memories and feelings rushing through him. "Finally something we agree on." He struck the chess piece down with more force than would've been necessary. "Checkmate."

* * *

"How's Morgana?"

Matthew shuddered and folded his arms tightly to his chest in a feeble attempt to shield himself. Like anything could've chased away this level of ache. "We, ah… She was h-home, for a couple of days. She was e-excited to sleep in her own bed." He shifted with discomfort, wondering how much further he could go without his self-control cracking. "It… doesn't look like she's got long, so… S-She's back h-here."

His therapist, Dr. Tracy Ivory, nodded. There was a great deal of sympathy and a hint of sadness on her face but no pity. "Does she know that she's going to pass away soon?"

The lump in Matthew's throat felt big enough to suffocate him and the searing sensation in his eyes threatened to drive him mad. He nodded barely visibly, not facing the woman. "Dr. Rhodes t-told us to be honest with her, so… We have b-been. As much as we can be w-with a small child, at least. She's a bit s-scared, but… She accepts it."

"It must be much harder to accept for you and Maeve", Dr. Ivory pointed out gently.

It felt like someone had shot Matthew right through the heart. He shuddered, struck cold and breathless. It took a very long time before he found his voice. "I, uh… I can't…" He cleared his throat, hating the way his tongue seemed to get tangled. "I want to t-talk about s-something else." _Anything_ else.

"Alright." Dr. Ivory's tone revealed that even though she showed him mercy now, they'd get back to this topic one day soon. She gave him a few moments to try and pull himself together. "What do you want to talk about, then?"

Matthew shrugged. In full, brutal honesty he didn't feel like talking about anything. "I had that n-nightmare again", he revealed eventually. The memory still made him feel cold. "The e-echoing steps… That voice…" He frowned. "I don't think it's about the a-attack, after all. The voice is different." At first it made sense that he might have dreams of the attack that reunited him with Derek. But the more frequently that nightmare occurred during those few moments of sleep he got, the more differences he noticed.

It was always a parking lot. Steps approached him from behind. The sinister voice hissing at him to be quiet and hold still wasn't that of the serial killer. And the pain which followed…

"It could be your mind's way to tell you that you're under too much stress", Dr. Ivory suggested. "You must feel overwhelmed with everything that's been happening recently. Is there anything I can do to help you deal with that?"

What was Matthew supposed to say to that? He kept having headaches almost every day, sometimes they even lasted for days. He couldn't eat because of constant, stress induced nausea. He hadn't slept properly since his first encounter with Derek. Perhaps because of all that his mouth functioned faster than his thoughts. "You could s-start with telling me how to stop making everyone who l-loves me miserable."

Dr. Ivory sighed. "Matthew… I'm sure…"

"My son refuses to text me or m-meet me. According to Derek he's been a-acting up at school and home. My wife does her best not to fall apart in f-front of me but I can see how much she holds back. She's almost as terrified of l-losing me as our daughter and I have no idea how to soothe her. And my hus… Derek… He calls me daily u-updates on Hank although I can tell how much it pains him to hear my v-voice. The…" He wiped his eyes, surprised to realize that they'd grown moist at some point. "The only one who's h-happy is Morgana, and…" He trailed off, all words dying to his throat.

Dr. Ivory gave him a long moment before talking softly and quietly. "I'm truly sorry that you have to go through all this, Matthew. No one deserves that pain. And I wish I had some kind of a magic wand that'd make things easier but I don't. But I do know that if you want to help anyone else, your kids included, you need to look after yourself. Be there for your daughter because right now she needs her daddy more than ever. And maybe there's something you can do to help your son, too."

Matthew wished, he really did, that he would've been able to believe that. That he would've been able to see even one positive outcome to all this. Before he could voice as much, though, his phone began to ring. His blood turned to ice when he recognized the number of Morgana's ward.

* * *

Thirty minutes. That was how long Derek had been pacing outside Dr. Lily's office, waiting for her session with Hank to end and wondering how much help this would be. Meetings with Dr. Lily were always incredibly draining on Hank and the boy usually fell asleep during the drive back home. Derek knew that this was absolutely necessary but hated when he had to see his son so emotionally drained.

A door opened somewhere behind him, making him stiffen instinctively, and he peered over his shoulder. He felt a much too familiar flutter inside when finding himself face to face with Spencer who looked like he'd seen a ghost. The irony didn't escape Derek.

"Derek?" Spencer bit his lip. A comfortingly and achingly familiar nervous habit. "What, ah… What a-are you doing here?"

Derek hesitated, not wanting to add the burden of guilt and worry that was already weighing on the other's shoulders. "Waiting for Hank. He… comes here once or twice a week to talk."

Spencer shivered visibly and looked away quickly, clearly understanding. "I have, ah… I have to go…"

Derek frowned. "Hey." He reached out, aching to grab that familiar hand, but stopped himself on the last moment. "As mad as he is right now, you're still his other parent. He loves you."

Spencer shook his head. The man's lips opened but in the end nothing came out. The genius gave him a one more look that was so full of ache and apology that it would've shattered anyone's heart, then began to walk away. Before stopping. "D-Derek, I… I want you to meet someone."

That… was not what Derek had expected. "Okay", he agreed with a frown he didn't manage to hide. There was very little he wouldn't have done for Spencer. Especially when the man looked like he might collapse at any moment.

They made their way to a ward meant for… children? Derek wanted to ask. And didn't want to. In the end he remained mute, following Spencer while the man walked far faster than would've been advisable with how unsteady the genius appeared on his feet.

A solemn faced nurse was already there waiting for Spencer. She cast a look of suspicion towards him but eventually focused on the other man. "She's… We're doing all we can for your daughter…"

Those words made Derek feel dizzy and he actually gasped, his eyes widening. Of course… Spencer, he'd been… missing for years… He was married… Of course… He should've known…

Spencer grabbed his hand and held on, so tightly that it hurt. No matter how involuntary that motion was it sent butterflies into the pit of Derek's stomach and his fingers curled back instinctively, naturally. Spencer's gaze strayed towards a window separating them from a hospital room. The man's eyes filled with tears that didn't spill. "Morgana…", the man whimpered barely audibly.

Derek felt like he'd been stabbed. Because he heard, and understood. Through everything, despite losing his whole past, a tiny part somewhere at the very back of Spencer's subconscious held on, kept a tiny fragment… And yet, while realizing that Derek also finally acknowledged for the first time just how completely and utterly he'd lost his husband.

* * *

Hank felt utterly drained when he left the psychiatrist's office. And although he would've never admitted as much out loud he needed a hug. Desperately. Which was why he frowned, feeling a sting of disappointment, when his dad wasn't waiting.

A quick look towards the parking lot revealed that the man hadn't left the building, at least. Hank was uncomfortably close to panicking until it crossed his mind that there was only one person who might be able to coax his dad away. Anger flaring, Hank grabbed his phone and typed a text. ' _You're with him, aren't you?_ '

The response he got from his dad wasn't what he'd been expecting. And it came after a curiously long wait. ' _Not now. Wait there._ '

Oh, Hank wasn't going to just wait when his heart was racing from what couldn't be panic.

Getting information from his parent wasn't all that difficult. Remembering his pa's new name was far more challenging. He was surprised to hear that no, the man wasn't admitted. What overcame him when he heard that the man's daughter was… It couldn't even be described.

The young receptionist, fresh in a new job, was oblivious to the boy's mental turmoil as she rummaged through her computer. "She's in room 205 but…" She sighed at what she discovered. "Oh dear. Maybe it's better you don't go there until your parents get here."

She looked up when there was no response but the boy was gone.

Hank was as smart as his pa and as fast as his dad. Something he still remembered the two joking about, before everything… blew apart. By the time the receptionist picked up a phone to alert the ward the boy was already there.

Almost the second he entered Hank saw his parents. His dad had the kind of a look on his face the boy last saw a very, very long time ago and never wanted to encounter again. His pa stood beside the man, so close that they could've easily touched if they dared to. The younger man was trembling miserably and his face had lost absolutely all color. He appeared more frail than Hank had ever seen him. Both men stared at something going on in the room next to them. Hank looked that way as well although he wasn't sure how much more he'd be able to handle.

In there a group of medical professionals was working on an unconscious little girl who looked so much like his pa that it was baffling. A little girl who was his sister. A little girl who was…

Hank officially couldn't take any more of it.

He began to run. Never noticing the two pairs of eyes turning to see him. He barely heard his pa's voice. "Hank…!"

This time he'd be the one who had enough and walked away.

* * *

Derek's mind and feelings were in a total, utter chaos. Yet somehow seeing his son run away helped put things into focus. At least a little bit.

When Spencer moved to follow he held out a gentle hand to stop the man. "It's okay, he won't go far", he promised, barely recognizing his own voice. "I'll go and talk to him. Your daughter needs you."

As much as giving up clearly tore at Spencer the man nodded, wiping his eyes. His husband's lips opened thrice before sound came. "I… I have b-been meaning to t-tell you… so many t-times… This…" That horrible, wounded whimper tore at his heart. "This wasn't…"

"I know." And Derek did. He could only imagine how many times Spencer had wanted to tell him about his daughter, how many different possible ways the man had come up with. This… This was any parent's worst nightmare. It took absolutely all Derek had to not pull his husband to a tight hug, to not at least try to kiss all that pain away. He was only human. He couldn't resist kissing the forehead of the man he still loved from the bottom of his heart and soul. And then he walked away, before the urge to do more would've become overwhelming.

Now was not the time for those thoughts, he scolded himself with venom, not when one child was horribly ill and another one missing.

Derek was a seasoned profiler. But more than that, he was a dad. He found Hank sitting in their car and wondered when the boy snatched the keys. His son's eyes were swollen and red but at the moment no tears were visible.

Derek took his time as he sat down to the driver's seat with a heavy sigh.

"Sorry", Hank murmured. And actually did sound sorry. "I wasn't supposed to bolt. It just…" The boy trailed off.

"… got too much?" Derek nodded and focused on the view outside the vehicle. When did it start to rain? "For me, too."

Hank swallowed loudly. "That kid… She's my… sister, right?" The boy went on without waiting for an obvious answer. "How… How sick is she?"

Derek shook his head. "I don't know." He should've asked. Should've done a million things differently. "I can't even imagine what your pa's going through right now. To tell you the truth… I don't know how to feel about any of this. And… I don't need to decide that right now. Neither of us needs to." He rubbed his face roughly with both hands but the image of Spencer agony-filled face stuck. "He needs us, Hank. And… Right now, we only need to decide if we're strong enough to stick by him through whatever is to come."

The sound Hank emitted was hauntingly lot like what came out of Spencer only a blink ago. "I… I'm only twelve, dad. I can't… How am I supposed to know that?"

Derek sighed heavily, his eyes stinging uncomfortably. He wrapped an arm around his son and for once the child leaned in to the comfort eagerly. Unfair, all of this. "I'm sorry that you have to figure it out", he murmured.

* * *

They took Morgana to a yet another emergency surgery. And Matthew was left there, in the middle of the hallway, all alone and in incredible pain. His phone was still in his unsteady hand from when he sent a text to Maeve.

He couldn't remember ever feeling quite this lost and it was ridiculously, horribly, bitterly amusing.

In the end his body made the decision for him. He rushed to the nearest toilet and barely made it there before throwing up loudly. Which was surreal, because there shouldn't have been anything in his stomach to empty. He had no idea what hurt more. The actual vomiting, the dry heaving which followed, his chest or his head. It was like someone had been slamming a sledgehammer at his skull and ribcage simultaneously. His head was spinning and breathing was nearly impossible, which made the dizziness and pain even worse. He gasped, one hand clutching at his head and the other his chest.

A smile. / _"Reid."_ /

A hug. / _"Spence."_ /

The ghost of a hand ruffling his hair. / _"Kid."_ /

A smirk. / _"Pretty boy."_ /

A kiss. / _"Love."_ /

What was happening to him? He gasped desperately and tried to find support from the wall but his hand slipped instantly. Was he having a panic attack or dying? He felt like his head and heart were about to explode.

He fell to the floor, hitting his head hard on the way down, before getting any answers. Before hearing the tentative steps entering the room outside the booth. "Pa?"

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Oh dear…! Is Spencer gonna be okay? Physically, at least, if not emotionally? And how is Hank gonna react to this? (whimpers)

Thoughts? Comments? I'd LOVE to hear from you, especially after having been away for so long!

IN THE NEXT CHAPTER COMES WHAT WE'RE ALL DREADING, so brace yourselves…

Until next time, folks! I really hope that you'll all stay tuned for that one.

Take care!

* * *

Guest (1): It would've been almost too easy, eh? Oh, how much this is gonna hurt… (winces) I'm REALLY happy that you like the idea!

Colossal thank yous for the review!

* * *

Guest (2): I'm SOOOO happy that you enjoyed it, sad as it was! (BEAMS) We'll see… Gosh, there seems to be a lot of tragedy in the horizon… Let's hope that Spencer and Derek can find at least a little bit of happiness at the end.

Massive thank yous for the review!

* * *

ripon: You may need them soon… (winces apologetically)

Gigantic thank yous for the review! Until next time.


	6. Hello, Goodbye

A/N: PHEW! Completing this chapter took AGES. And soon you'll see why… (gulps) BUT, before moving ahead…

THANK YOU, so very much, for your reviews and love! It's such a pleasure to type to you guys. (HUGS)

Awkay, before I chicken out… It's time to go. Just…

BEWARE, BECAUSE THIS IS GOING TO HURT! I'M SORRY.

* * *

Hello, Goodbye

* * *

There are very, very few things in the world that have the kind of an impact on a parent as their own child screaming in complete, utter terror. "DAD! Something's wrong with pa!" Those final words only added fuel to the fire and Derek was _running_.

The first thing he noticed upon barging into the public toilet was his son, more terrified than he'd ever seen the boy. A pair of impossibly wide eyes looked at him pleadingly. "Dad, you… You've gotta help him! I was just talking, and then I heard a thud and…"

The explanation continued but Derek couldn't focus enough to hear a word. Because that was when he finally spotted the feet sticking out from underneath a closed door, and a pair of mismatched socks. The last time he felt as cold as he did then was when… He swallowed, hard. "Hank, go and get a doctor, will you?" How he succeeded in sounding so calm he'd never know.

Hank obviously didn't want to go but also realized that there was fairly little choice. After a one more, scared glance at his pa's feet the child ran. As soon as the boy had left Derek turned his whole focus on his husband. "Spencer?" He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Matthew, can you hear me? What's wrong?"

There was no response and Derek decided that he was done with waiting. It was a small fortune that Spencer had been in too much hurry to lock the door. He tore it open and what he encountered nearly brought him to the floor as well.

Spencer had slumped down and now lay horribly still, face deathly pale. The color of the man's skin created a stark contrast against the vivid bruising forming quickly to Spencer's temple. It didn't take a profiler to realize that the man had hit his head on the way down, very hard.

It took a few seconds too long for Derek to recover from his shock enough to move. But after that he acted in a flash, and was by his husband's side before he realized what was happening. "Spence? Spencer!" He grabbed the man's shoulder gently and shook as hard as he dared to. By then his heart was hammering to a point where he wondered how much more it'd be able to stand, and fear squeezed around his throat. When the unconscious man didn't react to his actions he stopped resisting the temptation and caressed the soft cheek, a sudden wave of longing making him shudder. He swallowed, feeling too much for comfort. "Spence, wake up."

Still no reaction. And in that moment Derek threw all caution to wind. Gently, gently he gathered the man he loved to his arms and got up, then sped to motion. He didn't make it far from the toilet until he encountered Hank, who was running towards him with a panting doctor. The look that appeared to his son's face at the sight of his unconscious pa was painful. Which was why Derek focused firmly on the medical professional. "I…" He cleared his throat when his voice broke. "I don't know what happened, but… Our son, he… He found him, like this…"

The doctor, who was slowly regaining his breath, nodded. "Right, right…" The man took a one more mighty breath. "Follow me."

Derek did, without a beat of hesitation. He pulled Spencer even closer, the need and desire overwhelming him. And hated himself for noticing how good and right it felt to finally get to hold his husband again, even if it had to be like this.

What he didn't notice was how even when unconscious, Spencer curled instinctively a little closer to him, two of the great many wrinkles on his forehead smoothening.

* * *

It'd been a painfully long, horrible day. Leaving with her daughter's eyes shining from tears and possibly fever had been awful enough on Maeve. Facing one of their biggest benefactors, a tall man in his late fifties name Ronald Rummer who looked exactly like a rat, was pure torture. Her apologetic looking boss only invited her because Rummer refused to associate with anyone else. And apparently a dying child wasn't a good enough reason to stay away. The entire time Maeve kept checking the time, feeling the exact, immeasurable weight of every ticking away second.

A great deal of her worst fears were confirmed when she was finally able to check her phone and found a message from Matthew, announcing that Morgana had been rushed to a surgery. She hurried back to the hospital to encounter a chaos. And her husband being shifted from Derek's tender arms to a gurney.

Far more emotions than she would've wanted to cope with at the moment flowed through her, making her shiver. Confusion, worry, fear, jealousy… She immediately hated herself a little for the last one. "What happened?" was all she managed to utter. Seeing the mistrust on the face of the doctor treating her husband, she decided to clarify. "I'm his wife."

The doctor appeared even more perplexed for a while, then shook it off. "Matthew was found unconscious. The tests haven't been done yet, but I suspect that he suffers from exhaustion, dehydration and malnutrition. He may have a concussion as well." The medical professional didn't seem sure if he should direct his words towards her or Derek. "Has he… been under a lot of stress lately?"

That was like a knife through Maeve's heart. Unable to vocalize just what she and Matthew had been going through she nodded, fighting a brave battle against the tears filling her eyes. _Oh god, Morgana…!_

The doctor nodded back. "Alright." The man tried to offer a comforting smile. "We're going to look after him. We're taking him to ward 3 for some tests and to give him some treatment. I promise that you'll hear as soon as we find out something."

Then they were already taking Matthew away. Maeve moved to follow. Until she saw a solemn faced woman she recognized as Morgana's primary doctor walking towards her. If she'd felt cold before it was nothing compared to what she experienced at that very moment.

"Stay", Derek urged gently, eyes and tone genuine. "Spen…" The man shook his head, denying himself something. "Matthew will be alright. I'll go there and keep you updated."

Jealousy reared its head again and it took all of Maeve's willpower to smother it. This wasn't about the two of them. "Thanks", she breathed out, feeling utterly spent under the thunderstorm of adrenaline and emotions.

She watched, helpless to do little else, how Derek moved to head towards Matthew. Then, after several deep breaths, she turned to face Morgana's doctor. Her heart hammering and falling to pieces in her chest.

Because somehow this felt like the end.

* * *

Perhaps it was a small mercy that in the middle of all the chaos no one noticed the tiny, barely audible whimper that slipped past Spencer's slightly parted lips when he was stolen from Derek's arms.

* * *

An hour and a half later found Derek, Maeve and a by then sleeping Hank from the same waiting room. Which was every bit as pleasant as could've been expected. At one point Derek popped out and returned with two takeaway mugs of coffee. He handed the other one to Maeve. "I had a feeling that you might need this."

Maeve sighed gratefully. "I do. Thanks." Taking the first, savoring sip she nodded towards the boy. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah. Just… overwhelmed. It's been a long day."

Maeve shivered and took a new sip. It didn't help her feel warmer. "It has", she agreed in a murmur.

Derek hesitated, then took a seat so that Hank was separating them. "Look, I… I'm sorry, for your daughter." The man considered for a long time before continuing. "Is… she…?"

She nodded, not wanting him to finish, and wiped her eyes. They ached. "She, ah… She's been fighting for so long. We don't know…" She trailed off.

"If there's anything I can do…"

"I know", she interrupted him, more sharply than he would've deserved. He was a good person. This might've been easier if he wasn't. She sighed and looked at him. "Sorry. And… Thanks."

He nodded, then turned to see how Hank was doing. Only to discover that the child wasn't there anymore. His whole form stiffened. "Did you see where he went?"

For the first time in… Maeve couldn't even remember how long a smile touched the corners of her lips. "I think I may have a hunch. Don't worry, he's safe."

* * *

When Morgana first woke up she frowned upon facing a boy she'd never met before. Then, slowly, recognition dawned. Although she was in pain and exhausted a tiny smile made its way to her bluish lips. "Hank?"

The boy blinked twice with surprise. "Yeah. How…?" He seemed to run out of words.

Morgana giggled, even if it hurt. "'course I know my brother, silly", she rasped. Hating how every syllable seemed to be a struggle. She shifted, trying to find a position in which her chest wouldn't have felt so tight. Her smile widened while she struggled to keep her eyes at least halfway open. She then frowned. "You look sad."

Hank sighed, and looked so much like her daddy – _their_ daddy – that it baffled her. She moved, ignoring the agony it brought on her. Then patted the empty space on her bed, issuing a wordless command.

Hank obeyed just as soundlessly. And soon the siblings who only just met lay side by side, both deep in thought. The only sounds in the room were her unnaturally loud breathing and the machinery that used to scare her. She wasn't scared of much anymore.

"Hey." Hank nudged at her shoulder gently, tentatively. He pointed through the room's window. "See that constellation? It's Cassiopeia."

Morgana smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Pretty", she declared. Then pointed, the best as she could lift her hand. "That's my favorite one."

"It's called Andromeda. There's a pretty cool story about it. Do you wanna hear?"

Of course she did. Over the next half an hour she was introduced to a lot of constellations and the tales surrounding them. Of princesses and princes, monsters and heroes, love and betrayal. She would've wanted to hear even more but eventually exhaustion won over. Andromeda

Hank seemed to notice. A look of uncertainty appeared to his face. "You look tired. You should sleep."

"You too", she insisted stubbornly, stifling a yawn. Feeling him relax, she closed her eyes contentedly. Just before falling asleep she found herself whispering. "Hank? I'm glad that daddy will have you here. You'll look after him, right?" _After I… can't._

She was already fast asleep when Hank was finally able to whisper back. "Yeah. 'Course I will."

Leaning against the doorway Maeve, who'd been keeping an eye on the kids in case they needed something, wiped away tears although more flowed instantly. And cursed the injustice of _everything_ from the bottom of her aching heart.

* * *

When consciousness began to rush back in Spencer realized that he recognized the scent surrounding him. Not the reek of a hospital, the one that made his stomach turn. But the cologne. He also recognized the fingers combing softly through his hair. The realization was so overpowering that it nearly made him lose consciousness again.

The hand froze. "Spe…? Matthew?"

Both names echoed in the slowly awakening man's skull, so sharp and heavy that it felt like they might damage the bone. His companion ( _Derek, Derek, DEREK!_ ) helped him to a sitting position, and he shivered when a straw was placed gently to his mouth. The drink vanished when he'd exhausted himself entirely with five mouthfuls but the supporting arm didn't falter for even a second. He groaned, leaning against the other's comforting warm. A pair of arms wrapped around him, reflexively and protectively, stealing what little breath he'd obtained.

"Shh, shh…" One of the hands moved behind his back. "You… You haven't been looking after yourself lately. And… Well, today your body decided that it'd had too much. Do you remember?"

Yes. Yes, of course he did. He remembered too much.

Two people who loved him. Who swore to spend the rest of their lives with him. Two lifetimes. Two children…

 _Oh god, Morgana…!_

He was moving far faster than would've been wise, startling Derek. "Hey! What are you…?"

He swallowed hard, unable to get rid of the lump in his throat. "Morgana… She… I need to…"

"Okay, okay." Derek took a deep, shuddering breath, then another. "I'll help you to a wheelchair, and I'll take you to see her. But no more overdoing yourself, you hear?"

He nodded. In that moment he would've promised anything, as long as it meant that he'd get to go and comfort his little girl. Anything…

Derek began to help him up, and as they stood side by side a nurse could be heard humming in the hallway. The familiar melody hit Spencer like a sledgehammer. 'As Time Goes By'. Their first waltz as a married couple…

* * *

/ _Smiles. Laughter. Loving eyes looking into his. A kiss. "And when two lovers woo, they still say 'I love you', on that you can rely, no matter what the future brings, as time goes by…", Derek sang to his ear in a whisper._ /

* * *

"Spencer?" That name… That familiar name…! "Spence, you need to breathe, honey." A slip of a tongue Derek most likely didn't even notice. So familiar that it felt like a home. "Spencer, breathe!"

But he couldn't. Couldn't think. Couldn't focus. Couldn't… breathe…! Nor could he stop the tears of pain, sorrow, guilt, terror, joy and confusion running down his cheeks. "I'm sorry", he gasped, so quietly that it was a miracle if the other heard. "I'm sorry…! I'm sorry…!"

He tried to reach out. Attempted to explain. Wanted, desperately, to ask whether anything of the flashes in his head was real. But he had no breath left, no words on his tongue, no strength to grasp the hand slipping away from him. Then Derek was gone, calling out to a doctor.

And Spencer felt like both his head and his heart had been torn in two.

* * *

They did everything they could to calm down Spencer. But nothing worked. And eventually Derek realized that there was only one thing he could do.

Ignoring the protests of medical professionals, he helped the still borderline hysterical man to a wheelchair and started the journey. As soon as Spencer realized where they were going the man calmed down. And then they reached Morgana's room.

Maeve, who'd been standing by the doorway, frowned at him, then saw Spencer. "Matt? What are you doing out of bed?"

Spencer didn't listen. With what had to be the last of his strength the man pushed himself up and hugged his wife with force he shouldn't have been capable of at the moment. Derek barely heard the whispered words from where he stood. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

Maeve held him back with visible confusion, and looked towards Derek for answers. The older man had none. Understanding as much, Maeve tightened her hold on Spencer and kissed his cheek, then began whispering soothing words.

At that point Derek couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't a selfish man. But this, seeing the man he loved being looked after by someone else… With the day's horrific scare still lingering…

Derek turned and began to walk away. He needed some more coffee, the stronger the better. It wasn't until he entered the elevator he finally broke down to tears, the weight of _everything_ crashing down on him.

* * *

"Matt?" A kiss. "You're waking up, aren't you?"

"Hmmh." He sighed and leaned heavily against Maeve's familiar body, seeking comfort. Then, slowly, his eyelids fluttered open. He… wasn't in the same hospital room anymore… "What…?"

"You… had it a bit rough. Derek brought you here, and you fell asleep." Maeve seemed to be hiding something, but he didn't have the strength to question her. She searched his eyes. "Are you… okay, now?"

Of course he wasn't. He was scared, confused, sad and in pain. But at least he was coherent, now. So he nodded. "Morgana?"

Maeve's smile had a tinge of sadness to it. She nodded to their left. "See for yourself."

There were two hospital beds in the room. In the second one slept Morgana, but she wasn't alone. Hank slept beside her, one protective arm wrapped around the sister he'd never get the chance to really know. Although this was the first time the children met they held hands firmly in their sleep.

He chuckled hoarsely, because it was better than to break down to tears again.

* * *

"Hank?" That voice was gentle and familiar. As was the hand caressing his head. "Hank, wake up, now. It's time to go home."

Disoriented, the boy groaned and fought his eyes halfway open. The face he encountered made all fatigue fade away. "Pa?" He was sitting up so quickly that he surprised them both. "You okay?" His gaze scanned the man from head to toe. Despite paleness and obvious exhaustion the man did seem to be alright.

His pa nodded with a sigh. "Yeah, of course I am. I'm sorry that I startled you." Something about those eyes… seemed different. Perhaps that was what made Hank react.

Stunning them both equally, he wrapped his arms around his pa as tightly as he could. "Don't go", he blurted out breathily. "I… I'm still mad, but… I'll get better, I swear. Just… Don't go, please, don't leave us again." Once was bad enough, almost killed him. A second time…

He felt his pa swallow roughly. "I won't Hank", the man swore quietly, like a secret between the two of them. He wasn't quite old enough to hear the tears. "I'm not leaving you."

The man began to hum softly, and it was to that familiar melody Hank fell asleep. He remained asleep through the ride home, and for eleven hours afterwards. As soon as he woke up he sent his pa a text and didn't settle for a long overdue breakfast until ten minutes later, after he'd received a response assuring that the man was still okay. Hours later Hank realized that the melody that lulled him to sleep was the same one his pa sang often when he was a kid.

Was it a coincidence, or…?

* * *

Maeve didn't know how long she'd been sleeping when she woke up to find Matthew standing by the room's window, gazing out with vacant, pained eyes. She frowned and checked up of Morgana, who seemed to be resting peacefully, before focusing on him. "Matt? Have you slept at all?" There was barely any reaction, which served as a reply. "What's wrong?"

He swallowed thickly. "I… shouldn't ask this of you, but… There's something I've been thinking about."

* * *

The following day Morgana woke up to a very much welcomed, happy chatter. The second her eyes opened they widened, and a huge grin spread across her face. "You're the BAU-team, aren't you? Daddy showed me a picture uncle Derek sent him."

A woman with bright colored eyeglasses and a kind smile that didn't reach her eyes approached her and kissed the top of her head. "We are, sweetie. I'm your aunt Penny. And these…" She nodded towards the four others. "… are JJ…" A beautiful blonde smiled at her. "… Alex …" A brunette with kind eyes gave her a small wave. "… Hotch …" A solemn faced man gave her a nod. His eyes were so very sad… "… and Rossi." A smiling man who made her smile right back gave her a wave. "Your daddy invited us here to throw you the best birthday ever."

Morgana giggled, surprised that it didn't hurt. "It's not my birthday", she pointed out.

"Now what was that?" Rossi scolded playfully. "Don't tell me that you don't want all these gifts. And the cake."

Her eyes sparkled. So very tired, but full of life. "Cholate?"

"Nothing else would do, princess", Penny confirmed.

A step away from the room her parents stood watching as Derek joined the others with the cake and everyone laughed. Both held back tears. "Thank you", Spencer murmured, kissing his wife's hair. "For…"

"Of course." Maeve squeezed his hand reassuringly. "They were your family, as much as Morgana, Hank, Derek and I. They…" She gathered herself for a few moments. "They needed to get to meet her."

The thought was unbearable. Spencer shuddered and kissed her again, wishing that he could just wake up from this long, cruel nightmare. To a reality where no one was hurting, where his little girl… "Are you sure that you don't want to call your parents?"

Maeve nodded firmly. "They made their choice, when they decided that they weren't going to accept you. Us. Morgan… She doesn't need all that around her, not now."

Spencer sighed, leaning his head against the back of his wife's. Without a warning her scent mixed with Derek's. Memories – real or not, he didn't know – mixed together and he shivered again.

"Matt?"

He shook his head. "Just a headache." Which was tearing his skull apart. A loud cheering announced that the cake was brought in. "Now let's go in before they eat that monster without us."

* * *

The party was perfect. And afterwards the whole family of three slept together in Morgana's bed, tangled together so tightly that it was impossible to tell where one person ended and the other began. On the room's wall a clock kept ticking on mercilessly.

* * *

Morgana kept hanging on for a couple of more days. But her heart was weary and so was she. When she lost consciousness in the middle of emptying a cup of juice her parents knew that what they'd been dreading since her birth was almost at hand.

Morgana deserved better than to pass away in a hospital room. So they carried her as far from there as she could take, which happened to be the hospital's garden. To their relief no one was there so they got to spend their final moments with their daughter alone.

Morgana knew that she'd go soon, too. Even though she was still a child she felt it, with everything in her. There'd been a lot of days when she'd been scared of this. But now… Now she was perfectly calm. Ready. She didn't even feel pain anymore. She was just tired, every bit as exhausted as someone who'd spent their whole life fighting a war. And she felt cold.

Her daddy seemed to notice as much, because he wrapped her coat a little tighter around her. Then kissed the top of her head gently. "Go to sleep, sweetie", he murmured. "It's okay to close your eyes."

Morgana frowned and snuggled closer to the familiar warmth of her parents. Her eyes stung from more than just the brightly shining sun. "What if I have bad dreams?" she whispered, not having the strength for anything louder.

What was that noise? Her mommy caressed her hair with a trembling hand. "You won't", she promised. "Daddy and I… We'll watch over you, I promise. For always. Even when you can't see us there."

"Promise?" Morgana mumbled, her eyelids becoming heavy.

"P-Promise", her daddy murmured, this time unable to hide a slight stutter from her. He pulled her closer to his warmth, so close that she felt his heartbeat. "It's… It's what mommies and daddies do. They always look after their children. No matter how far apart they are."

It was a comforting thought. Because… Maybe she was still scared, just a little bit. She'd never even been to a bus without her parents. How was she supposed to make this long journey all by herself? "What if get lost?" It was a long way, after all. What if…?

"You won't", her daddy swore with such certainty that it made all doubts disappear. He squeezed her hand and she wished that she had the strength to hold back more firmly. He sounded so very sad, both her parents did… "And when… when you get there… You'll be healthy, sweetie. And happy."

"I know." And Morgana did. She looked at her parents and wished that she would've gotten the chance to see them smile a one more time. "Don't be sad. I'll be okay."

Her daddy kissed her hair once more. Her mommy began to hum her favorite lullaby. Those were enough to convince Morgana to finally close her eyes. She relaxed to the embrace of her parents, listening to her mommy's humming and her daddy's heartbeat. Slowly yet surely both began to sound quieter. Eventually she barely felt the hands holding and caressing her.

When it stopped feeling cold Morgana knew that it was time to go and sighed for the last time.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Oh boy…! (takes a deep breath) I'm so, SO SORRY for putting you through that! But now… Now it's done. And I PROMISE, it'll get better! Slowly but surely.

Those poor things, though! (whimpers)

So… Thoughts? Rants? PLEASE, do leave a word or two to the box down below!

Awkay, I need at least a couple of hours of sleep. Until next time! I REALLY hope that I'll see you all there.

Take care!


	7. Holding On and Letting Go

A/N: I was SUPPOSED TO update a week or so ago, but TOTALLY ran out of time. BUT, here I am, AT LAST! The previous chapter broke our hearts. Let's see how the recovery begins…

BUT, first…! THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for your reviews, listings and love! It's AMAZING that so many of you have been hanging in there all this time. So thank you! (HUGS)

Awkay, because I've already kept you waiting too long… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

Holding On and Letting Go

* * *

It wasn't the first time Spencer – because he couldn't think of himself as Matthew, not anymore – and Maeve came home from a hospital without their daughter. But this time was different in the worst way, because they knew that she'd never, ever come back home again. And she was _everywhere_. Her scent lingered in the air, the fridge was full of her favorite foods and even without concentrating the parents could've sworn that they heard her laughter.

They were quiet as they stood in the doorway of her room, staring at the loudest physical evidence of Morgana's brief existence. This time the silence wasn't the easy, natural kind they'd grown used to from the beginning of their relationship. It was the silence of a couple that didn't seem to have anything left to say.

In the end it was Maeve who moved first. With trembling hands and dropped shoulders she opened a massive plastic box and began to put Morgana's toys there. "I… I have to do this", she murmured, her voice barely audible. "While… While I'm still in a shock, and able to do _something_."

Spencer didn't know what to say. Wasn't sure he could handle the thought of… But he couldn't make her do this alone. He squeezed her shoulder gently, and felt a much needed hint of warmth and comfort when she leaned to his touch.

Without saying a word they continued their horrible, heartbreaking duty. Packing up toys and clothes, remembering far too clearly how their little girl looked when she used them. Spencer wondered if it was possible for a heart to break out of sheer grief while he operated on autopilot, fighting with his all to keep himself together.

Until he found Morgana's favorite toy, a one-eyed teddy bear she'd named Einstein, and keeping it together was no longer an option.

The first tears filling his eyes, then spilling, he lifted his gaze to find that Maeve saw what he was holding. He shook his head, his chest tightening from grief and despair. "I… We can't… W-We can't…" To put away that very toy would be putting away their daughter. Admitting, once and for all, that they'd lost her, that she was never coming back. And letting go so completely was something that he just couldn't bear.

Without saying a thing Maeve sat to the floor in front of him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him as close as humanly possible. She buried her face to his shoulder, breaking down to soundless sobs while one of her hands reached out to also hold on to the teddy bear. And for the first time they really, truly grieved their loss together.

* * *

Spencer couldn't remember making his way to bed. But he must've, because with the first rays of sunlight he woke up from there. He frowned, for a few moments of bliss too confused to realize properly what was going on. Until it all crashed down on him mercilessly.

The slowly returning flashes of memories, which he still wasn't sure were real…

The pain on the faces of those he cared about the most…

Morgana…

He wanted to get up and tear apart the room. Wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, curse the injustice of everything. Ached to make the whole world know just how much he was hurting. But as it was all he could do was lay absolutely still, staring at the ceiling with eyes that didn't really see anything. He couldn't even cry. All he could hear was Morgana's laughter, which still seemed to echo _everywhere_. Like she never really left.

At the same time Maeve was also slowly waking up on Morgana's bed, to which she barely fit. Her eyes filled with tears that didn't spill while she pulled her daughter's pillow close and inhaled the familiar scent. For a few deceitful moments of despair she managed to trick herself into believing that Morgana was still there in her arms.

Both of them knew that they should've gone to each other. But neither had the strength. And neither was willing to admit, even to themselves, that it was beginning to feel like the end. Because two losses in such a short time would've crushed what little of them was still left intact.

* * *

Spencer drifted off again. The next time he opened his eyes the room was dark. He continued to lay still, breathing taking up whatever little energy he had, and tried to remember what he'd been dreaming about.

Once again Morgana's laughter taunted him, and he wished that he had enough breath for a whimper.

There was a knock that, to his foggy head, seemed to come from some other reality. Followed by a soft voice. "Spence? Can I come in?"

Spencer blinked once, surprised that his eyes opened again. And again. With the fifth experimental blink there was a thin beacon of light, and silent steps approached the bed. "Hey", JJ whispered. "Are you sleeping?"

Spencer didn't manage to nod. Or to tell her to leave. Did he even want her to leave? He didn't know anything anymore.

"The whole team is there, whenever you're ready." Her voice was sympathetic and comforting, but not pitying. It made holding on to his bubble of numbness far too difficult. "We're not letting you two go through this alone."

It felt like she was waiting for him to say or do something. And he knew that he should've. But his mind and body didn't seem to be connected at the moment.

JJ seemed to understand, at least partially. His back still to her, he heard her walk closer. Soon a gentle kiss was placed on top his head. "Try to get some sleep. We'll all be waiting when you're ready."

Closing his eyes and letting his mind float away, Spencer wondered if he'd ever be ready.

* * *

In the meantime David Rossi was looking for Maeve. Eventually he heard bizarre noise from the upstairs bathroom and frowned. It was like someone had been crying and laughing simultaneously. It might've been amusing if the noises weren't so pained.

After a moment of hesitation he knocked. "Maeve? Are you alright?"

There was no response. Hoping dearly that his decision wouldn't lead to any humiliation, David opened the door slowly. He had no idea how to react to what he discovered.

Maeve was sitting on the toilet, her face in her hands and breathing loudly while the last of her sobs died down. On the edge of the sink sat a pregnancy test. A negative result glared up at David.

"We…" Maeve cleared her throat. "We… _tried_ , for a really long time. For… For a second one. And now… Now I was so relieved by that negative result that I burst into tears when I saw it. What…?" She gasped. "What kind of a person feels that way? What…?" She trailed off, wiping her eyes.

David sighed heavily, far too many unpleasant memories surging to the surface. "The kind of a person that has just gone through a massive loss and is grieving." Only the fact that they barely knew each other kept him from giving her the hug she obviously needed. "No one would blame you on not wanting a new baby right now."

Maeve nodded, although it was impossible to tell if she actually believed him. Then shivered visibly. "Don't tell Matthew about this, okay? He's…" She sighed heavily, appearing incredibly tired. "He's already going through too much."

David bit back a groan. He absolutely hated being put into this position. "I won't", he promised. "But you should be honest with each other. And if you want to stop trying… You should tell him."

Maeve gave something of a nod, but although she was sitting right in front of him it looked like she was sliding further and further away.

* * *

Spencer woke up for the third time to the feel of another person's warmth behind him. He was startled until he recognized the presence and his companion spoke, obviously imagining that he was still asleep. "… know that you miss Morgana. Of course you do, she was your kid. But…" Hank gulped and it took a few seconds before the boy managed to continue. "But I'm your kid, too, and… I just got you back. So… Don't do this, please. Because… I need you to be _here_." There was a sob, just one, but nonetheless heartbreaking. "I'm only twelve. I need my pa."

There's no proper parent who wouldn't react to that. Who wouldn't do whatever they could to chase away that hurt. So, for the first time in… he didn't even know how long, Spencer moved. Turned to face his son and pulled the boy into his arms.

Hank didn't say or ask a thing. Only accepted the comfort and support with a nearly hysterical amount of eagerness. And so they stayed, drawing comfort from one another. Eventually they both fell asleep, and this time the slumber was the healing kind.

* * *

Maeve lost track of time at some point, so she had no way of knowing how long had passed when she sat in a swing she and Spencer had put to their backyard for Morgana. It was the little girl's favorite item in the whole wide world because whenever she was swung higher, the child was convinced that if she'd try hard enough she'd be able to touch the stars.

Just another one of those memories she couldn't stand.

Steps approached her. Instead of the voice Maeve had expected to hear Alex spoke, her tone full of honest sympathy. "Are you ready to come inside?"

Maeve nodded stiffly. Of course she wasn't. But postponing _this_ wasn't going to make it any easier, so she gathered herself like a good soldier, took a deep breath and stood up. One step and a single breath at a time she began to move, like she'd done since she found out that her little girl was going to…

"Maeve?"

Maeve shook her head. Even tried to smile, although she had a feeling that she failed miserably. "Thank you, for doing this. All of you."

Alex didn't say a thing, only gave her hand a brief squeeze.

As they walked towards the house the wind grabbed the swing. Made the metal sing, like someone had still been using the item. Maeve had to use all her willpower to not look over her shoulder because seeing the swing empty would've shattered her entirely.

* * *

The way Spencer woke up next was painfully familiar. Fingers that he knew as well as his own combed through his hair, warm and comforting. And the scent of that cologne…

For a few moments it felt like the past… how long ago was it, anyway, seven years, nine or seventy, were nothing but a strange dream. For a few seconds his mind tricked him into believing that he was never gone at all. That Morgana never…

He groaned when a storm of what felt like new memories attempted to surface, so sharp and heavy that they made his head hurt.

"Hey", Derek whispered, as though sensing that he wouldn't have been able to handle anything louder. The hand continued its motions and he leaned on it subconsciously, all of him needing the pleasant, familiar feel. "I wish that I could've just let you sleep. Whatever you were dreaming of, it made you smile. But… It's been… a while. You need to eat. And… There are… _things_ that have to be taken care of." Things, such as arranging a child's funeral.

With those whispered words reality crashed in. Spencer sighed and wrenched his eyes halfway open. They hurt and stung, like he hadn't used them in ages, and it took a long time before he was able to see properly. He swallowed, his throat so dry that it hurt. "Hank? Maeve?"

Derek exhaled deeply. "Hank's at school." Because life just had to go on, no matter what. "Maeve's at the kitchen with the team. Rossi wanted to arrange a yet another pasta event. Do you feel up to going there?"

Spencer didn't want to leave the bedroom. He wanted to go back to sleep, because in his dreams everyone was happy. Morgana and Hank were looking at the stars together, Derek and Maeve were smiling. No pain, death, or heartache.

Spencer gasped, feeling like someone had been squeezing the very life out of him. Derek reacted without a thought, and before either of them saw it coming the larger man had gathered him into his arms to a nearly desperate hug. Dizzy, aching and weighed down by grief, Spencer clung to the man's shirt with all his might. It took some time before he realized that at some point he'd burst into tears. "I'm sorry", he choked out as soon as he had enough breath for it. "For… For being like this… You shouldn't have to…"

"Spence, stop." That was somehow sharp and tender all at once. Derek's hold on him tightened. "Stop apologizing for things that aren't your fault. Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Stop stretching yourself thin. Stop bottling up everything. Just… Just let it out, just this once. Because…" It sounded like the agent was crying, too, despite furious attempts to hold it back. "Because you're slipping away, and I can't… I can't lose you again. Don't make me lose you again."

Let go Spencer did. Because under the assault of those words he wasn't able to keep it from happening. And so they cried and grieved in silence, over losses both old and new. They held each other and grieved everything that'd been stolen away from them.

An hour and a half later they made their way to the kitchen, Derek supporting most of Spencer's weight until the younger man got the chance to sit down. This pasta party was spent mostly in a silence. And afterwards Spencer and Maeve held hands for the first time in days as they, with the team's support, finally began to plan their daughter's funeral.

* * *

Later the only thing Spencer remembered of Morgana's funeral was that it was a painfully sunny day. He was glad. His little girl always enjoyed sunlight.

A week passed by. Then another. He grew so used to the silence lingering in his once lively home that he no longer questioned it.

Until one evening Maeve joined him in a hot shower and wrapped her arms around his waistline. Naturally, without a thought. Yet something… didn't feel right.

At least a full minute and a lot of nearly scalding water rushed by before she finally spoke. "I love you, Matt. There's… There's only ever been one person I've loved more. But…" She swallowed loudly. "I can't do this anymore. Stay in a house that smells like her. In a house that's full of her. I can't… I can't even look at you, without remembering…" She trailed off.

Spencer swallowed thickly. It felt like someone had been tearing his heart from his chest but he couldn't even whimper from the pain and tears had ran out long since. "What a-are you talking a-about?" he murmured instead. Hollow, defeated.

Maeve's hold on him tightened. Like he was the one sliding away. "I… I got a job offer from London this morning. And… I'm taking it."

They made love right there in the shower that turned cold as warm water ran out, and both knew that it was for the last time.

* * *

When Derek came home from finishing up a horrific amount of paperwork all he wanted to do was eat something nauseatingly unhealthy and fall asleep. Instead he found Hank sitting on a couch, a frown on his face that was far too much like Spencer's and a brown envelope in hand. "What's going on?" the boy asked before he got the chance to. Hank showed him the envelope with a palpable amount of confusion. "Maeve brought this an hour ago. It looked like she'd been crying. Is something wrong with pa?"

Something was definitely wrong with Spencer. Losing a child tended to do that to a person. But it wasn't like Derek could blurt out as much so, using all his acting skills, he snatched the item and ruffled his son's hair with a small, forced smile. "He's just as fine as he has been, worrywart." He took a deep, steadying breath. "You know what? I don't feel like cooking today so why don't you order us some pizza."

Hank didn't have to be told twice. Derek waited until he heard his son talking to a phone, then focused on the envelope. After a couple of more deep breaths he tore it open, wondering – much like Hank – what in the world was going on.

' _When I first found out that you existed… I have to admit that I hated you. And the thought that my husband had another family that I stole him away from made me hate myself. But now I think you and Hank were a blessing in disguise._

 _Because while you were strong enough to be there for him despite the ghost of what once was, I'm not. No matter how much I love my husband I can't stand looking at him and seeing our little girl in his eyes, in his smile. I also love him too much to make him go through that same agony every single day. And I can't stay in a city where her ghost is everywhere. If I stay it'll kill me, too._

 _So I'm once again asking you to do the impossible. Show how strong you are and be there for him, show him how much he still has left. Make him believe that this is the end of a chapter, not the whole story._

 _Because Morgana would've wanted both her parents to be happy. She would've wanted us to be the best people we can be. And we can't be that if we stay together, not anymore. I think I'm finally ready to accept that. Make sure that he accepts it, too._

 _Now I know that my daughter was named after you, and I need you to ensure that her legacy will be more than just pain and sorrow._ '

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: I was cruel enough to put you through Morgana's death, but not enough so to put you through her funeral. Small mercies…? Poor, poor Reid and Maeve, though…! (whimpers) But maybe, just maybe, they'll be okay. Eventually…

ONLY A FEW MORE CHAPTERS TO GO, FOLKS! Soooo… Thoughts? Comments? Rants…? PLEASE, drop a line or two before you go!

Until next time, folks! I really hope that I'll see you all there.

Take care!


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